


Taking Over

by nanjcsy



Series: Breaking Ground [1]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Arranged Marriage, Basement Scenes Are Cringe And Pukeworthy, Betrayal, Blood and Torture, Cannibalism, Conquest, Deadly Pets, Dysfunctional Family, Extreme bullying, F/M, Forced Relationship, Gang Rape, Gore, Gregor is his own warning, Horror, Human Bargaining Chips, Hunting Humans, M/M, Mild Thramsay, Multi, Murderers, Nannerverse, Not Safe Sane and Consensual, Not all pairings are sexual, Parent/Child Incest, Ramsay is his own warning, Religious Fanaticism, Reluctant Partners, Slavery, Stockholm Syndrome, The Author Regrets Nothing, Turf War, Very Dark Humor, any tags i miss let me know, no happy ending
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-12-13
Updated: 2016-10-18
Packaged: 2018-05-06 12:05:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 140
Words: 308,458
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5416325
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nanjcsy/pseuds/nanjcsy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What if the Lannisters had to move North...how would that shake things up for the Starks and Boltons? Never mind the leaders and their families...what about the dogs? What about the enforcers? And their companions? Let's all find out!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Welcome To Your Take Over, We Brought Cookies!

**Author's Note:**

> It was brought to my attention that not enough stories included the great Mountain with his men. So here is one, however, I warn you...if you are interested in Gregor stories with his men, but are NOT familiar with my work...there is a great deal of dark sexual content I tend to add and the pairings are not always to traditional tastes...nor are they always very cannon.  
> The Mountains Men are in this story thanks to S***Mouth who came up with the idea of Gregor having his men pitted against Ramsay's boys. I already had some requests for Gregor to clash with Ramsay so this fits perfectly! Thank you guys for these great ideas! I hope the story can live up to your expectations!

Cersie added a little more foundation to her face and Robert snapped, "You are pretty enough. Won't matter once the snow and sleet hit that delicate skin though. Woman as cold as you...shouldn't matter too much though, huh?" "You are slurring your words. You will be drunk before the damned plane lands. Wonderful, maybe you should be worrying about your own appearance."

Snarling, Robert said, "This move is all your fucking fault. We were happy in the warm South, the kids went to the best schools, just like you wanted." He ignored Cersie's choking on her own drink as his word "happy." "You had to go fuck everything in our stable of help, when you ran out, you just went straight to find your own brother? I mean, how disgusting and pathetic can you get? At least the whores I have aren't RELATED to me! You are why we all have to live in the land of Ice and Snow! Tywin doesn't need our help on this deal, trust me. He wants to leave us here to freeze to death after while he and his men go home! They will probably take our children with them!"

"Oh, as if you would notice? When was Joff's last birthday, Robert? Can you remember? If our daughter was kidnapped, you wouldn't be able to tell them what she looked like!" Cersie hissed as Robert sputtered indignantly. "How dare you? Bitch, I know what my daughter looks like!" Huffing, Joff turned from tormenting his siblings and yelled over the seat. "Oh really Dad? Okay, Mr. Baratheon your girl has been taken! Can you tell us what she wearing, Sir?"

They all waited tensely as Robert tried to recall what his daughter might be wearing today. It was always a sweater, kid had a thing for them. He knows because he buys her one every trip he takes and she always wears them upon his return. "A sweater!" He hollered and a stewardess started to share a meaningful look at her coworker.

Wincing, Tommen asked his father to keep his voice down. "What color sweater, Sir?" Asked Joff in a terrible impression of a Northern cop. "Ah...pink?" Myrcella crossed her arms and stiffly said, "Scarves, not sweaters, are my favorite, father. Only you like to give me sweaters. I am wearing a teal scarf over a white shirt. Never mind, just let fate take its course. Might be better options out there."

Robert turned to try and slur apologies and threats all at once while Cersie started to hit him in the back. This prompted him to turn and hit his wife with his ring hand. "Dammit! Look what you made me do! Go fix your face before your father sees you, he'll kill us both!" Robert groaned as his wife hurried away, hands over her bleeding face.

"I fucking hate you. Bad enough you beat my mother in front of us, or at all! But you are making me marry some cunt that I don't even know. She is pretty, that is all I know and smart. Well, so is my mother and look at her life. Look how happy you are with her. Thanks for passing along that wonderful tradition for me, Dad. So which one of the younger two get the raging alcoholism?"

Minutes later, Joff was waiting for his mother to finish in the bathroom. When Cersie opened the door she gasped and pulled Joff into the tiny room. "I am so sorry, baby." Cersie carefully tended her son's bruises. A split lip and then Robert at least remembered to hit his son where it wouldn't show. Cersie stared at the ring imprints on Joff's back and chest. "I was defending you." Joff muttered and Cersie's eyes filled with tears. "We will find a way, I promise." "You always say that, Mother. We love you, but we don't believe you anymore."

Sandor listened with half an ear as the hated family bickered and fought. Sighing, he heard Joff whine to his mommy and he grimaced. A fucking nanny is all he was. Bodyguard to the Baratheon's was all his asshole brother would let him get. Gregor worked for Twin Lannister and could easily have vouched for his little brother.  Gregor told him that all the spaces were taken by his men but he had a great and very fitting position for Sandor. He almost managed to say it without laughing himself to death. Almost.

"As ugly as you are, you are lucky to even get that." Gregor had sneered and Sandor knew better than to complain. Since then he has suffered his brother and friends derision and name calling. Raff was quite fond of calling him Sandor Poppins. Moving North changed nothing for Sandor and he didn't really care where they went. It mattered plenty to his brother and his men. The South had been firmly their territory and they ran out of challenges quickly. North is a whole new place full of challenges. Sandor's biggest challenge would be to keep the Baratheon's from killing each other. Yawning, Sandor decided to nap until they hit ground.

Tywin Lannister sipped his drink and stared at snoring, drunk Tyrion balefully. Of course this was the son he had to have with him. Not handsome, capable Jaime, no it was the freak of his family. His one true shame and regret. Thanks to his whore of a daughter, Jaime had to be left behind to clean up the mess. Best to keep brother and sister apart for awhile anyway. Though Tywin is sure it was only a fluke, he doesn't want to tempt either of them. He grimly stared out the window and already could feel the bite of cold. His old bones hated the Northern wind but his need for domination made it worth the ache.

Gregor and his men were silent for the most part, ignoring all. Raff flirted with a stewardess softly but with polite care. She was not offended, in fact made plans to meet him as soon as the private jet had landed. He winked at the other men as the girl walked away. As soon as the landing happened, before everyone was allowed to leave the plane, Gregor and his men gang-raped the poor stewardess.Gregor took her first then Raff took her last. He had mainly been enjoying the pain and degradation she had suffered. When Raff took the girl, she was already very wounded and in shock. But he managed to find ways to make her scream and beg. Polliver watched grinning then drawled out, "I can get used to the North." 

Ned Stark grimly surveyed his family. They looked less like the welcoming, diplomatic and polite group he wanted and more like a prison task force. His wife Catelyn had her hair pulled so far in a neat militant bun and her black dress was so severe, it was clear she was the matron. All she needed was the baton.

Next to her stood his eldest daughter and matron in training or more like a nun defending the western front. He really couldn't understand what her outfit was. It was so shapeless with so many layers, her hair was hidden under a shawl. "Did you take vows, girl or have you cast off our family name for poverty in the deep North? Exactly what am I looking at?" Sansa glared at her father then primly said, "Just ready to meet my new husband. After all, don't want him seeing his new property till he has properly bought it, right?"

Rolling his eyes, Ned decided not to have THAT discussion again. Next was his daughter Arya and he didn't even bother to lecture. He just held his hand out and muttered, "Weapons." With a sigh that nearly blew his carefully arranged hair back further, Arya handed over two knives and a slingshot with pellets.  "Why have you dressed like the girl from Mad Max, my dear?" He knew better than to ask but luckily she just grinned at him.

Shaking his head, Ned looked at Bran. He was wearing an Assassins Creed cap, a Minecraft shirt and Arkham Asylum sneakers. "You look like a walking advertisement for Game Stop!" "Um..if that were so, I would be wearing Game Stop clothes." Ned tried to force the boy to stand straight then moved on to his little brother. Staring down at Rickon, Ned just sighed. "What is this costume today about? Are we going for Batman?" The smallest Stark stared up at his father with near hatred and disgust in his eyes. "I am Kylo Ren. How that hell does that even make you think Batman?"

Robb and Jon chuckled a little from where they leaned against the mantle place. "You two look like idiots. Did you think by wearing my shirts and jackets, no one could see the bullet proof vests? You look like damned penguins. And you probably bristle with weaponry. Give me anything more than your one allotted gun, right now." Ned went to get himself a whiskey while his eldest boys pulled out extra guns. "You would leave my boy unarmed?" Cat hissed and Robb winced. "Let it go, mother." 

Jon put down everything but his gun and stepped back. Not before Cat's hateful glare hit him, making him flinch. "Why can't Jon just go with you and leave Robb here with us? Why does Robb have to go and pick up the fucking Lannisters? With our luck, with YOUR luck, they will kill or take my boy hostage!" Slamming down his glass, Ned yelled, "We are all hostages, get it yet? Tywin fucked us over, he fucked the Boltons over. Frey fucking helped take us down, it is over!"

"I don't understand how Cersie fucking up her social status involves us? Why should we be punished for it?" Cat yelled and now Ned threw his glass to shatter against the wall. "Maybe if you ever saw or heard anything that wasn't in a glass or in a social paper, you'd remember what I tell you! It was the scandal that made the Lannisters move here to live. That was AFTER Frey already had fucked us all over! Remember now? Tywin already was screwing us over when Cersie caused the scandal. Only difference is instead of just sending their damned watchdogs, they are coming themselves to live here. Eventually, Tywin will leave, hopefully taking everyone he is related to with him. And if we all can have any luck at all, if the North stays united, we can take the North back."

Roose Bolton was lecturing his son for the fortieth time. "You will cause no trouble. The boys will cause no problems. We can bide our time and wait them out." Ramsay nodded and shifted his feet, bored to tears by his father. When he moved, he felt his pet start awake and tried not to smirk down at him. Reek will worry if Ramsay will punish him for dozing and that amused him long enough to endure the rest of his father's lecturing. Damon was oiling his whips in the garage while Skinner polished his best blades and Alyn was loading guns. Ben was readying his attack dogs. Ramsay thought of this and assured his father, "We will cause no trouble or problems."


	2. Clashing Together Like An Angry Gate

They all watched as Ramsay and his boys pulled in last. As the plane was landing. Roose gritted his teeth and asked, squinting in the snow, "How can you leave at the exact same time that I did and yet you get here a half hour later?" Then Roose snapped at the same time Robb started to come forward growling a bit. Ned grabbed Robb's shoulder and cautioned, "Do not pick a fight, it never ends well for any of you. If you really care for Theon as much as you say you do, you won't start a fight. You know who will be bearing the brunt of it later on, son."

Wrenching away from his father's grip Robb stayed silent. "Why did you bring him along, Ramsay? We have no use for him here. Ahh..you wanted to piss off Robb didn't you? Well, only your pet gets punished for your stupidity yet again. There is no safer place for him to be then with the boys, he can ride back with them. You are here to work only, remember?" Roose stared down his angry son and simply waited. Ramsay ground his teeth but then nodded. "He can stay with me until then, can't he?" Ramsay forced his voice to sound pleasant but Reek gave a tiny shiver that had nothing to do with the cold.

It warmed Ramsay and he pulled the thin frame nearly swallowed in Ramsay's old coat into his chest. Thin gloved hands missing a finger or two clenched tightly at his coat and Ramsay grinned at Robb. "Mr. Bolton, we can let Theon rest in our warm car until they need it. Really, I don't mind at all." Offered Robb and Ned sighed, shaking his head. Why does his son get so stubborn over the stupidest of things? Ned honestly thought when he gave Roose charge of Theon it was for the best.

Ned had kept the boy as a hostage since he was ten years old. When Cat started to complain that the arrogant little bugger was experimenting with Robb, Ned beat him half to death. The boys were thirteen when that happened and Jon was also having issues with Cat. So Ned figured Cat would let it go. Then she caught Robb kissing Theon, on top of the boy. She not only tried to murder Theon then and there, but beat Jon just for walking by.

Roose's brat has been after Theon since Ned brought the boy home. Every holiday Cat would have Ned send Theon to the Boltons, so Ramsay remained quite fond the boy it seemed. The only reason Jon didn't spend his holidays there too was because that was something Ned put his foot down on hard. His children would attend his holiday festivities. How would that have looked to others? But since Theon was always spending vacations with the Boltons, it was natural that Ned would send him to live there. It was a mercy, really. At least the boy would be with a family he already knew. And Roose would never allow Ramsay to truly harm the boy.

Ned lost the closeness he had with Robb the day he forced his son to the ground, while Theon was dragged away. It never returned and Robb's obsession with Theon only grew. The more apparent it became that Ned had made an error in judgement, the more Robb pulled from his father's influence. He tried to get Ramsay to return Theon many times, but that was one thing he couldn't force. He needed Roose on his side in this infernal war-zone, now more than ever.

Even now, the boys all in their early twenties and it still went on. Ned knew it drove Roose as crazy as it did him. And he also knew that Roose has a bit more leash on Ramsay, but not by much. Therefore, the two rarely worked together on any business projects. Today was a show and there was no choice. "Never mind, we don't have time for that Robb. The plane is landed. Here they come."

Ramsay pushed his boy away and said, "Go stand behind the boys and obey them, Reek. Good boy." Robb snarled at Ramsay's smirk. "How could you bring him into such a dangerous situation?" He hissed as their fathers walked forward. Ramsay scoffed and said, "Who would hurt him? He is thin, weak and unarmed, he isn't a threat to anyone. He is also surrounded by my boys who wouldn't let anyone touch a hair on my Reek's head. Only you constantly think of stealing my Reek, Robb, no one else but you." Robb bristled and bit out, "His name is Theon."

Rolling his eyes, Ramsay drawled out, "We really don't have time for this argument. I renamed him at his fourteenth birthday party, you were there, remember? You tried to shove my head into the cake over it and your father strapped you in front of us all. Remember? It was a lovely day, a great memory. Oh, look here comes your brother, finally off the phone. We could all have been shot to death while he crooned some EMO shit to his wild girl."

Jon had no idea why Robb was pissed at him and why Ramsay was smiling so nicely at him. "Time to work." Snapped Robb as they saw the Baratheons and Lannisters coming out. Suddenly, Ramsay and Robb were shoulder to shoulder, Jon on Robb's other side as closely. North may bicker but it sees South and closes shut. 


	3. A Chilly Welcome Party

Reek slid and staggered through the ice and snow towards the boys. With an impatient sigh, Damon reached out and yanked him into their small group. Shoving the frail boy behind him Damon muttered, "I told Ramsay to leave you home with Jeyne. Get back next to Ben and stay quiet." Nodding, Reek let Alyn shoved him into Ben who maneuvered the shivering boy half behind him. "Stay." Reek obeyed the gruff voice and showed no emotion on his face. Just in case there was any, he kept his face low to look at the snow.

He blinked away tears from the cold and ice in his eyes, but the boys would probably think he was crying in fear. Which was silly, Reek didn't fear any of Ramsay's boys. Not for a long time now, but they seemed to think he still did. The only ones Reek feared were Ramsay and Roose. And only the fear of Roose was intolerable.

A while back, it is hazy as to when but awhile back, Reek started to love, not just fear his Master. He saw it was the only way to survive it and so Theon went away, surrendered. That is when Reek stopped fearing the boys because Ramsay didn't need them to hurt Theon anymore. Loving Ramsay was better, he was kinder then.

Oh, there was one other person that Reek was afraid of, that was Robb Stark. He was the only person that kept daring to attack Ramsay, to challenge him. It made Ramsay so mad and he can only go so far against Ned's son, so he takes it out on Reek. It wasn't fair because Theon was the one in love with Robb, not Reek. But this logic didn't matter when Ramsay was enraged. So Reek had begun to fear even hearing Robb's name and would instantly grovel with affection on Ramsay.

Reek's largest fear was that someday Robb will kidnap him. There was no doubt that Ramsay would come for him. The boys would probably beat the living hell out of Robb for it but Ramsay would come for his pet. He would make sure that Reek was not hurt by Robb first..then he would flay him for tempting the kidnapping somehow in the first place.

Jealous doesn't even begin to explain Ramsay. Reek silently agreed with Damon, he should have been left at home with Jeyne. Another way for Ramsay to rub something in Robb's face. When Robb started to date Sansa's friend Jeyne in high school, Damon swooped in. It was half to please his best friend Ramsay and half because Damon just liked the way the girl looked.

Damon was charming and funny, somber Robb was no match for it. Sweet gentle Jeyne became Damon's girl. To his delight, the girl did have a wild streak in her and slowly Damon dug it out of her fully. However, he never brought her to work and Jeyne was firmly aware of her place, same as Reek was. Jeyne had the whip scars to prove how hard it was for her to learn what Damon wanted of her. She did not wear a collar like Reek nor did she kneel or crawl around like Reek does sometimes. But Jeyne would no more dare to run or challenge Damon than Reek would with Ramsay.

Living in their first new place, away from Roose's home finally, Reek has been happier than ever. A two family house just blocks away but to Ramsay and Reek it was like going to another country. Finally, a place without Roose always over their shoulders. Ramsay and Reek took the bottom floor and Damon took the top floor with Jeyne. The other boys renovated the basement for times when they needed to hide out or crash for awhile.

Roose still called all the time and tended to drop by without warning on occasion but it was still tolerable compared to living under his roof. Reek and Jeyne visited with each other when they finished cleaning and caring for their men. Now here comes the Lannisters and Baratheons. Which means more close contact for Ramsay with Robb and this worries Reek greatly. Things had been going so well.

"Oh fuck, what the hell is that supposed to be?" Breathed out Alyn, staring at the gruesome burn on the giant man's face. He was young about their own age but he looked like a monster. "He is as large as you Damon, but way uglier." Shrugging, Damon stared at Sandor who looked ready to strangle a young blonde boy. "That must be Joff, Robert's oldest boy." He commented then Skinner whispered, "More like Cersie and her brother's incest baby from what I hear."

The boys all stopped talking at once and Reek found himself peeking up, past Alyn's shoulder. Gregor Clegane was the largest man Reek has ever seen and then those eyes seemed to land on him. He froze then moved back behind Ben. Shutting his eyes, Reek wished Ramsay had left him home more than ever.

Robert nearly ran to reach Ned before anyone else hoping it didn't look like he was running from his family. Giving Ned a hearty hug, Robert breathed at him, not noticing his target turning green at the fumes. "Dammit, good to see you, Ned. Sorry, so sorry how this all went down. I had no idea my father in law was stealing from us, none of course! Anymore than you knew what the Freys were up to, right?"

Robert sounded a mix between petulant and conciliatory. "I even begged Tywin, just let us come and deal with it. Since we already needed to leave the South for a small while but Tywin is an uptight asshole. He has to do it himself. Least we found a peaceful way to combine it all, no bloodshed, right? Joff and Sansa are going to be what solidifies us. Keeps us all safe from Tywin's greedy clutches a bit. Tywin will leave after a small while, then it is back to all us Northern men."

Roose and Ned shared a small look then Ned patted Robert's shoulder. "Of course. Don't worry we will all be fine here together." You fat pompous prick! We were high school buddies, turned college buddies, turned criminals, turned business partners! You got greedy for money and for polished blonde cooze!

Now here we are, fucked over because you went South, marrying the enemy! You drank and fucked everything around you while Tywin Lannister sucked us all dry through time! What do you have for it? Kids and a wife that hate you and now your friends hate you too. But Ned just smiled thinly as Roose shook Robert's hand. "Good to see you again, Robert." Roose said smoothly.


	4. Please Join The Misery, Hatred is Free of Charge

Cat gave a final walk throughout the home she had finished for Tywin. She already toured the one for Robert and Cersie next door. Grimacing, Cat passed by Sansa. Every time Arya walked past her she called her, "Babushka." Cat agreed more with Rickon's assessment, that Sansa looked like a floating nun ghost haunting hallways.

It did no good to remind Sansa that Ned and Cat were an arranged marriage, that just set both Sansa and Arya off. Her head was throbbing and suddenly Petyr was there handing her a glass of champagne. "Here you are my dear. Calm yourself, the decorators were perfect. Everything has come out as you ordered, even the catering services are hailed in the South. You will be fine, I know you will."

Grinning at her life long best friend, Cat said, "Are you nuts? Nothing will be fine, not as long as the Lannisters and Baratheons are here. I am marrying my daughter to a boy I don't know except by a gruesome reputation. The son of a man I have despised all of my life! I am using more time, effort and money on a stuck up bitch that I hate than I do on my own family!"

"I am watching my entire family put themselves at the mercy of the South just to survive. And I can't stop laughing like it's some sort of bitter nightmare that I will bravely face until I wake up! This is worse than when Ned brought Jon home! I can't stand to lose my daughter so soon and to someone so awful! She isn't even finished with college yet, they can't expect her to really marry so soon, can they?" Cat wrung her hands.

Petyr shrugged and then gently guided the glass to Cat's mouth. "Calm yourself, darling. This won't do, don't let them see you sweat. You are better than that".  Cat drank a good portion of the glass before speaking again. Her bitter smile was still there and there was something playful, like a cat with sharp claws that is bored about her.

"Now darling Petyr, don't tell me you aren't worried as well. You have lived so long off of us society wives with your knowing where we all need to go for what....and you certainly keep our men entertained with your little side services. Now, with my rival, comes yours. Varys is riding on Cersie's skirts all the way North and he brings exotic new connections....exotic new side services too." With a very thin smile, Petyr remarked softly, "Now there is the cold bitch I know and adore. You worry about Cersie and I will worry about Varys. More champagne for both of us this time."

Watching her two sons go running past her hurling insults at each other, Cat sighed. They grew so fast, where did the time go? How could they possibly think Sansa was ready to marry? She was only nineteen, it was crazy. Reminding Cat that she was that young herself didn't help Ned's case any. It took several fights and then one night it came down to Ned's fucking belt while she was gagged. That is when she gave in but didn't stop complaining of it, oh no. The same as when Ned came home with his little whore's bastard.

It took Ned beating Cat for her to not kill the boy or cast him out the door. But as time went on she found ways of revenge. The most obvious was by treating the boy like the piece of filth he was but there was a darker thing. Cat might not be proud of it, but there it was, it was the sum of how much she hated Jon. Of how much she hated Ned ever since he cheated on her. Cat wished that she could have found a way to sell Jon to the Baratheons instead. If only Joff were a girl, she thought wryly. Or if only Ramsay could have found interest in Jon too.

 


	5. Taking In The Real Estate

There are funeral processions in the North of prestigious dignified officials that moved with more joviality then the luxury vehicles carrying the families. 

Tywin Lannister and Gregor rode facing Ned and Roose. Not one to bother taking extra time with fake conversation, Tywin simply spoke of business matters. Ned and Roose were as icily polite as they could be and only Ned knew how hard it was for Roose not to put his pen into Tywin's eyeball. Ned himself was fairly certain that if that mutant wasn't sitting next to Tywin, that he himself would try and put an end to the old man.

"My wife has spent the past month working on your homes. We were able to get two homes right next to each other, as you requested." Ned said, thinking of the angry Pooles and the furiously insulted Karstarks. He had to bully them out of their homes, possibly losing their support for an uprising. Tywin simply nodded and thought about how large he remembered the Stark's stone mansion was. If his house wasn't big enough, he will simply move into theirs instead.

Robert and Tyrion sat as far from each other as they could get. They actually preferred speaking to the enemy rather than each other. Jon and Tyrion spoke of books they both have enjoyed while Robb and Robert made awkward conversation. "So Robb, what grade are you? Are you on the high school football team? Or do you still play baseball like when I used to live here?"

"Uh, I don't play sports much anymore. When I am not working for father I am at the University. I take classes and teach a few as well." "Oh. Well, you are only a year or so older then Joff! You two will get along well, I am sure. Good thing too, since he will be your brother in law soon." Robert drank from a flask while Robb wished he was in Ramsay's car. Even that prick was better than dealing with this buffoon who helped ruined all their lives.

Cersie and Joff sat next to Sandor who stared off into the distance. Ramsay was fascinated by the burns and wished he could ask to hear the story of them. Sadly, the man didn't seem like the talkative type. Cersie didn't either, she pretended that Ramsay didn't exist anymore than Sandor did. In fact, Cersie also didn't seem to notice her children either. She was drinking from a flask that matched Robert's, a prank gift from Joff that they actually enjoyed.

Ramsay watched Joff harass the living hell out of his little siblings. He seethed over this little blonde prick, he hated him almost as much as he despised Robb. If anyone should get to marry Sansa Stark, it should be Ramsay. It could have been a permanent power-hold between the Starks and Boltons to hold the North. Instead the fucking incest pansy prince-ling will get the prize and the power. It didn't matter that Ramsay hated the stone cold bitch who was way too much like her mother. It didn't matter that Sansa was revolted by Ramsay. It would have been worth it to solidify the North from the Lannisters. Even Sansa would have readily agreed with that.

The last vehicle in the somber caravan contained all the boys. A large sleek van with a padded bench that ran along both walls. The Bolton boys sat on one side staring at the Mountain's boys on the other. There was not an awful lot of talking, mostly just staring and the showing off of weaponry in the most dickish of ways. Raff kept trying to see the little cringing pretty thing the boys have with them. Uncomfortable with the staring, Reek has himself curled up behind Damon's broad back, nearly squished into the metal wall.

"Hey, hey there little mouse. What is your name?" Raff called over softly but Reek did not respond except to make a little whimpering sound. This was more interesting then the grandstanding and they all got involved. They tried everything to coax him out but nothing worked. Polliver even offered a chocolate bar, saying the boy could use some food. "Aww..come on, I just want to know your name..tell me and we'll stop asking, boy." Raff said reasonably and that prompted a response. Poking his head around Damon's back, huge eyes not meeting anyone's, the mouse squeaked, "Reek. My name is Reek. I am Ramsay's Reek." 

"Oh? Reek, really? Your Ramsay must not like you very much to name you that. Luckily, it doesn't seem like you smell like your name. Come over here to me, little mouse. We will be nicer to you than your Ramsay." With a gasp, Reek ducked back behind Damon's back at Dusten's suggestion. Shrugging, a man only introduced to them as Tickler leered, tilting his head to see the shivering boy. "That's okay, if you don't want to play in the privacy of the van, we can play elsewhere later. Trust me, we can find you no matter who you scuttle off with. But when we catch you, you might not like where and how we play. Depends on how impatient you make us, I guess."

Damon growled and said, "No one is going to touch Reek. He is the property of Ramsay Bolton. We protect his property and no one will lay a single finger on what belongs to Ramsay." The southern boys started to laugh as if Damon just told the best joke they have ever heard. "Far as we know, anything that belongs to a Bolton or a Stark is pretty much the Lannisters' now. Besides, why would someone leave such a timid, helpless prey like that with predators unless it was a gift to be used. So just hand him over and we won't break the Bolton's bitch too much." Raff taunted and that was all the hot tempered Alyn needed to launch himself forth at him. Chaos reined moments later, fists and boots. No one dared to pull a weapon for fear of disobeying their direct orders. But no one said anything about a good old fashioned fist fight.

Reek managed to hide under the bench and he thought he could stay away from them all. He saw how wrong he was when Polliver grabbed his ankle, yanking him out. Screeching, Reek panicked, kicking the man in the face. This caused Polliver to bellow then crawl under the bench after Reek. Catching hold of the squirming, terrified mouse, Polliver punched him hard enough to knock a tooth out. "Little fucker!" Damon pulled Polliver out from under the seat and started to pound large fists into him. That is when the van stopped moving and the doors flung open.


	6. Murder With Mercy

Ramsay and Gregor stood over the group of writhing bruised men, glaring. They all untangled and Ramsay called softly, "Reek, come here." With a grateful whimper, the terrified pet crawled from under the bench then flung himself against Ramsay. Grabbing the slight chin, Ramsay yanked Reek's head back. With an even softer tone, he asked, "Reek, who hurt you?" Skinner hollered, "Polliver knocked his tooth out. They wanted to rape him and we were protecting him but Polliver got past us under the bench."

"Surely my men explained that this was my personal boy, didn't they? And yet, you still dared to try and take my pet? Is this the way things are done in the South?" Ramsay's voice was deadly and Reek sobbed quietly into his Master's jacket, trying to burrow in. Gregor sneered, "Well, in the South we have courtesy. If someone leaves a pretty bit of prey unattended then it is assumed that it is fair game. Or perhaps a small welcome gift. My men made a very easy mistake to make. If you don't want your little toy to get used, then you should keep it with you or locked away. Since you didn't bad things happened."

Reek shivered as he could feel how very angry his Master was becoming. Before Ramsay could do more than take one step forward, Robb ran over. "What the hell happened to Theon? Ramsay, let me put him in my car until we leave! Clearly these southern cunts are beasts and will attack anyone they see that is weaker than them." Now it was Gregor taking the step forward but towards Robb. Cursing silently, Ramsay shoved Reek hard to Damon then went to stand next to Robb. Damon nearly threw the pet to Alyn who spun Reek against the van. No weapons, no words, just a hard fast collision. At the last second, Jon appeared nearly tossing his cell phone into the snow in his eagerness to join the fight. For another few moments the snow drift called Jon's name.

Before any damage could be done, there was an authoritative voice cutting through the need for violence. "ENOUGH." Instantly, Gregor and his men stepped away from the Northerners.  Robb and Ramsay might have continued to press forth if it weren't for the sight of Ned and Roose glaring at them. Tywin stepped forward and surveyed every one of the panting, bleeding men. "We are not here for a battle. Else you would have been given orders to bleed. I do not care what the reasons were. Do not displease me again, gentlemen. This is a day for new beginnings, it is a peaceful take over not an invasion."

Gregor and his men all nodded staying silent and attentive. They all walked away to leave the Northern boys fuming. "If I had even a a shred less dignity in my body, I would beat the two of you right here." Ned ground out as he steered his sons towards the looming monstrosity that the Karstarks have left for Tywin. "Rest assured that tonight you will be be feeling my displeasure. Now try to remember your duties to this family and act like Starks not Bolton beasts!" Ned growled as he shoved Jon and Robb into the foyer. They moved away from their father as quickly as they could, humiliated.

Robb went to the bathroom to fix his wounds before his mother saw him. The last thing he needed was his "smother" having cardiac arrest while dealing with an already tense situation. Robb was very aware of just how vindictive his mother could be and he hated it when she used him as a reason to cause cruelty to others. His mother used Jon as a whipping boy not just for their father but for Robb too. It was never that Robb was gay that set Cat off. No, what made her force Ned to send Theon away was her need to be the only influence in her beloved son's life. He hated her as deeply as he hated his father now but Robb never dared to let his mother know that. She was just too dangerous.

In a very soft voice Roose had informed Ramsay and his boys that they will all see him this evening after work was complete. "The only one who will not be line to visit my basement tonight will be my son's creature." Ramsay followed his father into the way too overdecorated home. The combinations of scarlet and gold were blinding. Clasping his hands behind his back, Ramsay tried to not think of how someone touched, hurt, tried to defile his property. He concentrated on work, silently patrolling opposite of Jon. Robb of course was a Stark pure-blood so therefore his job was to no longer guard but to play eldest son now.

Introductions were made and Tywin greeted each of the Stark females plus the two youngest boys with grim courtesy. Tyrion muttered courtesies and went straight for a drink. Robert drunkenly hugged Cat and shivered at how cold she was. Cersie and Cat met eyes with a soundless snarl, the bleached practiced smiles looked more like the baring of teeth. Joff looked at the young woman with snow white skin, bee-stung lips and arctic eyes. She could be hiding anything under those rags but he was reasonably certain she was curvy but not heavy. Her voice was smooth, articulate and very upper class and Sansa shook his hand without any reserve.

He hated her on the spot and he could tell that she felt the exact same way. "I am so glad to finally meet you. Shall we take a walk and you can show me about? I am eager to see where my family will live." Joff spoke sweetly as Sansa hooked her hand through his offered arm. "Oh of course! I shall take you next door and show you the things I spent time working on." She said agreeably enough. Together they strolled away followed at a distance by Arya and Sandor, both keeping distance from each other as well. 

"I suppose I should escort you and the children to your new home." Cat and her sons led Cersie and her youngest two into their new home, leaving the men to discuss their own important matters. As the Starks and Baratheons toured the house the first warning shots from each side were courteously fired.


	7. Getting To Know Your New Neighbors

Cersie strolled with Cat through the house, half listening as the woman gave her the basic tour. "Well, it is very rustic and charming to be sure. When it would get too hot in the South, we would abandon the mansion and go to a nice cabin in the Riverlands. It was very similar to this." The cultured soft voice was so pleasant you could melt butter on her poisoned words.

Cat gave a very small nod and a pleasant smile. "Oh, I know this will take some getting used to. I do hope you have enough furs in storage to make it through our winter holiday social groups. It will be a struggle for you, I know. You are very used to dressing a certain way and that is hard to do in our weather. Trading high heels for boots and fixing hair in thirty seconds or less is a Northern society girl's first lesson."

Joff and Sansa walked about until Joff picked the largest bedroom he could find furthest from the others in the house. "This is a good space for me, don't you think? Large, roomy and private." Sansa nodded and looked out of the large opal shaped window at the frozen garden. A good view of the forest and Sansa said wistfully, "I love this view from here. My room looks out onto the road and a driveway. It is very boring." He walked over and stood next her looking out the window. "You are right, it is really a good view." Without looking away from the snow covered trees, Joff said, "Do you normally wear that much covering or is this for my benefit?"

Sansa continued to look at the incredible view and replied, "It is a small way to rebel against my parents, I suppose. You could always call off the engagement." Snickering, Joff leaned against the windowsill and looked at Sansa. "I can't do that anymore than you can. So I guess we learn to live with each other. It can't even be a marriage in name only, more's the pity." He straightened up and sneered at the lovely, cold eyes.

"I hope you really aren't like your mother. From what I have heard, Ned had to go elsewhere because his wife was a stone cold bitch. Good news for you is, I can just bring a few high class girls in. I have no problem with getting kinky if need be so I can fill you with a child or two. I have heard of Petyr's side business...and Varys has always found me the right girls. If you are too ice cold for me to get it up for you, I'll have the girls get me going. Then I'll just push myself inside your dry cunt as I come. That should only take a bit before you breed. Starks breed like cattle."

Rising her chin then slowly turning her head, Sansa looked down her nose at Joff. "We are hardy folks here. And with it always being a bit chilly, we are a harder colder folks. I imagine it will be rough for you. Already your tan is fading and those circles under your eyes, you must be under a great deal of stress, Joff. Oh wait, that is a bruise and a split lip, not herpes, good. I hope you don't have any diseases from your whores but now that I am aware of your slut status...I will ask father for a full medical check up for you before we wed."

"If I could have a whore jerk you off into a cup then I could take a turkey baster and do it myself. It would probably be more pleasurable. And if I am cattle, so are you now. Here you are thrown into a new stable with a mare to mate. And from what I have heard, you aren't much of a stud unless you have lots of help. What do you prefer most for a kink? Skinning cats or beating whores? Maybe you can fill a cup for me from one of those options?" They stared at each other and then Sansa said politely, "I can take you through the garden if you'd like. It is actually prettier in the winter." Joff nodded and they barely managed not to flinch at each others touch as they walked out of the room.

Arya and Sandor followed them into the wintry yard and then the large man rumbled, "Why the fuck are you following me around, you little pissant?" It was bad enough he has to chaperon the brat in case he tries to skin his betrothed. But this strange little girl was following him, driving him batty with her hostile stares. Hard not to notice the way she was dressed or looked, that is fail number one for someone stalking others.

Arya had shoulder length hair that looked like it suffered a shock. Worse was it seemed like this was a purposeful crime done to her head. She had black eyeliner, black lipstick and add the strange hair on the short girl, Sandor thought she looked like a dark elf. Wearing ripped fishnet tights, black combat boots, leather shorts, green tank top and completed with a flannel shirt that fluttered around her. Clearly several sizes too big. She threw a parka on over this bizarre get up when they went outside but seemed unmoved by the freezing air on her legs.

"Because you are huge, scarred and scary following my sister around. When you get away from my family members, I will get away from you." The girl responded smugly and Sandor snorted. "What would you do to defend them? Chew on my ankle? Go home before I squish you, little girl." Raising her chin arrogantly, Arya claimed, "I could take you down. I would just have to be creative about it, is all. Look at your face and ear, or what is left of it. Clearly you are not infallible. Someone has managed to nearly destroy you before. It could happen."

Sandor leaned over Arya, sneering into her face and gave his most intimidating growl. "Little bitch, the only person who has managed to ever hurt me is my own brother Gregor. Have you seen the size of him? Anyone else who has tried to hurt me looks worse than me or is dead. So back off. Your mother would be angry to see her little girl trying to pick a fight with a grown man."

Arya gritted her teeth and her hands curled into fists as she stared unblinking back at the large, terrifying face. "I am not a little girl, asshole. I am sixteen years old. And you are only in your early twenties. I am pretty sure it would be more of a scandal for you then me if we fought. So you'd better hope I don't need to defend my siblings from you." Rolling his eyes Sandor says, "Why am I always surrounded by rich stuck up little cunts? When did I go from bodyguard to babysitter of the millennials?"  

Bran and Tommen walked around the house in silence at first. "You game?" "Yeah. You?" "Yeah. GTA5, Assasin's Creed, Walking Dead, Battlefront." "Cool, me too." The two spent the next half hour unpacking Tommen's computer and games.

Myrcella stared at Rickon and asked, "Kylo Ren?" Nodding, Rickon assessed her dress and asked, "Amy Pond from Dr. Who?" Grinning, Myrcella nodded and a friendship was born. "We have a cosplay group at the middle school, you'll like it." Rickon assured her as they planned new outfits together.


	8. First Test Missle Fired

Joff and Sansa came through the large kitchen with a set up meant for a professional chef. Of course, Cat has already set up interview for Cersie and Tywin for potential chefs and staff. It would only be a matter of time before they steal mine, she thought.

The kids greeted their mothers pleasantly and then headed for the garden out the patio door. If a photographer had popped up in a window or leaped out from the garden bushes, Joff and Sansa were ready for it. Her hand was placed lightly upon Joff's arm and they both had very pleasant smiles on their faces. Both mothers winced as the weight of their hatred for each other hit them. Worse was the guilt when their child looked at them, hoping their mommy will save them at the last minute.

A giant man with a scarred face lumbered through the room, next to him was Arya. Their faces were grim, they were focused on Joff and Sansa. Cersie lightly said, "Oh, it's lovely that you allow your children to be part of the business early. Now when does Arya get to train with weaponry? Who is her mentor?" Dryly Cat responded, "Arya has self appointed herself the bodyguard for Sansa today. My children are quite protective of each other. Once Sandor stops following Sansa, so will Arya."

Giving a tiny titter, Cersie leaned closer and nearly whispered, "Then I guess Sansa better get another house with more rooms. Because Sandor is my wedding present to Joff and Sansa. He shall guard them, he is very loyal to my son. So I guess Arya will have to move in with them. Well, you have so many children, you might not even notice for a few days. And think of how much easier it will be on you to have two girls out of your hair?" Cat smashed the damned expensive wine that she despises but Cersie loves. Grabbing the base of the bottle, Cat thrusts forward into the pretty cunt's face. Thrilling to the screams as she sliced through the golden skin, bone glistening and her face was fucking GONE! She twists the bottle into her eyes... 

Holding her head up, ignoring the lovely images in her head, Cat icily responded. "It wouldn't be proper for a newly married couple to have a sibling come to their new home right away...though I DO see your point about Sandor though. So perhaps I shall join this strange version of southern helicopter parenting. Maybe I should send Robb to stay with them for awhile, then when he cannot do it, we shall send Jon. So see the benefit to a large family? I just can keep sending the siblings "

She managed to say Jon's name without her hatred of him bleeding through the words. Cersie smirked and said, "Of course its proper to have visits, even sleepovers but they shouldn't all come solely to guard their sister. If that happens then we have a small issue. In the South, we use family members only until a bodyguard is found. If you have different ones all the time on the same..you look weak. One bodyguard or chaperon is reasonable and acceptable. Since you were kind enough and Arya is so willing to help her sister, I appoint her as chaperon and bodyguard of her sister. And I will see to it that she gets the classes she needs to train. Thank you very much for that wonderful idea, darling. I will go to Tywin and let him know. I think he will be as thrilled as I am for this amazing gift you gave the wedded couple." 

Cat wanted to use her sharp nails to dig out the bitch's eyeballs. How dare she? How dare she take BOTH of her daughters? Sansa was the one that liked, loved her, almost as much as Robb used to. She never really got along with Arya, they were so different from each other. The only times since she was very young that she kissed or hugged her mom was for the media or the socialites. Otherwise her daughter was a sarcastic, hateful sneaky brat.

One time after Cat had a few "bad days" she got up to discover that Arya had emptied out every bottle she could find. Cat was severely fucked on that one. She lost her mind and stormed into the little bitch's room. Walking over to the blinds, Cat removed the plastic rod that is used to open and shut the blinds. Cat didn't notice the window open, she had a focus. Arya tried to run and she was caught at the door. The beating Cat gave her daughter was ruthless and brutal. Sansa, Robb, even Jon pleaded for her to stop. The little ones watched and cried, not understanding. Jon ran to go get Ned and she began to hit her harder. Finally, Ned pulled her away from the hoarse voice screaming for "her to end it."

However, she does LOVE her daughter because Arya is a Stark and she must love her family. Loyalty and love is what they were taught. How could she put both daughters into such an awful situation? Cat pursed her lips and her steely glaze caught Cersie's satisfied one. "There is no reason for me to send a teenage girl to stay in a newlywed's home. It would be incredibly awkward and inappropriate. In the South, perhaps such things would not raise an eyebrow or so I have heard, but in the North we have a higher moral and ethic code. This would be a scandal for both our families, dear." Cat stood ramrod straight, the same satisfied gleam hitting her icy eyes as she saw the insult hit home. Well bitch, you sent the first shot.

Cersie took a moment to finish her champagne then gave Cat a mere twitch of a smile. "You are right, of course. Thank you Cat for reminding me of your Northern ways. So I will rectify this problem instantly. Ah, I have it! The happy couple can stay here after they are married, at least for awhile. We have so much room, too much really. So Joff and Sansa can pick some out of the way spaces in one of the wings. Sandor already lives in the house with us...it would be entirely appropriate for Arya that way! Who could find fault with Arya staying with all of us, a strong values, high class family? I would make sure her room was near Myrcella's of course. And since the girls go to the same school, our driver would take her to and from everyday. No more buses, like you had to go with...it must have been hard to send your children out like that. Well, I am glad you reminded me of your rules. That is all settled, isn't it Cat? I will go tell my father immediately."

Cat wrapped her hand firmly around the heavy bottle. She is taking my daughters hostage and laughing while she does it. I have to explain to my husband how I just lost our other daughter. As Cersie put her glass down, Cat began to raise the bottle. Then Myrcella and Rickon burst into the room babbling. "Mother! Mother! Where is the box with my cosplay stuff in it? I NEED IT NOW! MOTHER YOU DON'T UNDERSTAND! HE IS KYLO REN AND I MUST AVENGE HIS FATHER!" Cersie started to argue with her screaming daughter and Rickon started to try and dissect Cat with his light saber. Still clutching the bottle, Cat decided to take a swig from it before setting it down.

 


	9. New Places Can Cause Restless Nights

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> warning: remember that warning at the beginning of all this?? that i take characters WAY out of cannon sometimes?? that i can get real explicit or make really cringe-worthy pairings??  
> last warning on that....here we go....

The Northern night was chilly, the wind was spitting ice as if offering it's derision upon the rich neighborhood. Lovely houses, decorated tastefully for the holidays, all three with twinkling white lights all along the mansions frames. It was as if the wind knew what was happening inside those homes. The wind shrieked but there was other sounds that were drowned out by it. Trees whipped branches over the windows as if trying to assist in hiding the atrocities within.

Tyrion was in his room far from the others in the new Lannister home. He was taking advantage of Petyr's side services. This had put Varys in a snit of course but Tyrion wanted to try someone new. Tyrion said to the haughty bald man, "You said you needed to have a good reason in order to correctly meet Petyr. Well, here it is! You are welcome!" Tyrion distrusted and despised Petyr upon sight. The soft raspy voice and ferret look about him was bothersome. However, Tyrion had to admit he could really pick the right whores for the right customer. This buxom redhead leered at him when she came to his door and saw him. This was usually the worst part, when Tyrion had to pretend not to notice the surprised or disgusted look. That is really why Tyrion only sleeps with the same ones over and over. Varys had offered him other girls..but he prefers ones who already have the fake look on their face upon entering.

This girl was different. "Oh, hey! He told me you were a dwarf, an infamous one! But he didn't say a handsome one. I fucked two dwarfs at once for four hours straight." Ross leaned over so he could see her cleavage as she leered at him. He couldn't believe she actually was LEERING at him. "Let me tell you sweetheart...I have fucked so many times and ways..but that was something that only happened once. And ya know what? They actually did make me come once out of the whole thing! I don't normally come at all and most clients don't give a shit if I come. I mean, its all about the customers, right? But these were goddamned polite gentlemen! They didn't choke me with their cocks just to laugh about it like a lot do. They never hurt me once in any way and they actually licked me together until I screamed in pleasure. So when I heard the great Tyrion fucking Lannister has moved to town...oh! I heard of you from some of Varys's girls that we chat with. I heard that just like my clients that one lovely night...you like to let your whores get a little bit of fun. The second Petyr said your name, I leaped up so close, I scared him half to death!" Tyrion decided the North offers at least one good thing for him and reached for Ros. "I swear to you all the rumors are true and I shall prove it, lovely lady!"

Tywin did not approach Cersie until she was in her room getting ready for bed. Tywin put on a jacket, left his house and marched through the snow to his daughter's new home next door. He used his key to enter and left wet footprints on the new carpeting. Without knocking, Tywin entered her bedroom. Cersie knew well enough not to bother locking the door. She was well aware he would wish to speak with her about what she had done. Even though Tywin had firmly agreed to taking Arya in, it irritated him to do so. It has angered the Starks and Boltons. Tywin does not wish to set them off yet. He wants them to stay compliant until the slaughter. Giving them cause to rebel does not fit his plans. However, in front of these proud folk that he was trying to take over, then down, he could not disagree with his daughter. It would look weak and Cersie knows it. How many times has his children used this against him? Countless. They always hate the consequences. But never enough, it seems. Only Tyrion may be the outwardly freakish one in the family, but all three seem to possess that stubborn streak of rebellion. 

Walking straight up to his lovely daughter, standing in only a thin nightgown that he can almost see her nipples through, he hit her. A hard fist to Cersie's stomach and she bent down with a "WHOOF" sound. Standing over her, Tywin asked in a clipped tone, "What did you think you were doing? How dare you cause strife when we touch our first foot on the snowy ground! Do you intend to cause me just as much scandal here as you did at home?" Cersie shook her head frantically, her hair flying about. Tywin grabbed the thick tresses and yanked her head up. "I cannot hear you. Do you plan on causing me any scandals? Because if you do I will cut you and your loser husband off in a heartbeat, tossing you and your fat ass husband out into the snowy night. I will of course raise the children for you. Lord knows, they need someone to give them true rearing."

Cersie hated it when her father threatened to do that. She believes him, he has done it once before to them. "No, Father. I won't cause any scandals." A few years back things got a tad out of control between her and Robert. Each kept trying to up each other in debauchery among other things. Both stayed drunk and angry around each other. Robert started hitting her more often, even though he kept telling her he enjoyed watching Cersie try and outdo him. She had actually hoped to show him how his behavior was, but he missed the point of the lesson. At least that is what she told herself while she drunkenly rode a bartender in a backroom at a strip club. It all came to a head one rainy night.

Tommen had a fever and the nanny couldn't reach either of the parents. So she rushed the boy to the hospital, in a panic forgetting the other two children. Myrcella woke up from a nightmare and found no parents to comfort her. She ran to her brother's room and he was gone too. So she went to Joff and that was a bad mistake. At the hospital, the receptionist checked the records and called Tywin Lannister. He was at the hospital in seconds to assure himself that Tommen got the best treatment. He asked the nanny who was with the other two children. The girl turned pale and he told her she was fired. Tywin made a quick phone call. It was Gregor that found the eleven year old boy beating and raping Myrcella.      

That very night Tywin packed all of Robert and Cersie's possessions, had them delivered to each of them. Robert received his boxes at a casino. Cersie got hers at her current lover's house, her younger cousin Lancel.  Calling his favorite real estate agent, Tywin told her to rent out the house for four months. He told the drunk couple they could live without the income he provided, the home he provided and the children they couldn't seem to care for. "Consider this your first warning. You will go live in an apartment I have secured for you. You will work the jobs I have provided for you. You will not go to stay with your friends, or try to get any loans for me to pay off later. You will work and live there for four months. If you have kept the apartment and jobs for the entire time, you may both come back. If you fail, I will get custody of your children and cut you off completely." For four months, it was living hell. The apartment was in a stinking slum. Cersie had to work at a fast food restaurant serving a caliber of folks that left her cold and shuddering. Robert was worked nearly to death in a factory. Both worked, ate, drank, slept and started over again. It was brutal and with a sense of bitter pride, they completed their time.

Tywin had certainly cared for those children better than their parents. He had Varys find a very good and discreet psychiatrist that was known for his controversial work in mind control and brainwashing. The man was truly excellent and he repressed Myrcella's memory of what Joff had done for years at least. He had pulled Joff from his public school (because the nearby private school had expelled the boy) and he shoved him into a military school. The very same one Tywin himself had attended. Tommen was already in an excellent private school and was doing quite well. He mainly spent time instructing his very young grandson in the ways of the world. Of course it all changed when Robert and Cersie came back.  They pulled Joff back home, Myrcella was removed from therapy. Cersie only visited with her father for holidays and when she was summoned. Robert had no choice, he worked for the man. But both of them kept out of any severe trouble for a few years. Until his slut of a daughter decided to seduce her own brother. He snarled at his daughter, allowing her to see his revulsion then he left.

When Robert came home finally, he stunk of whiskey and cheap perfume that did nothing to cover the smell of sex. Cersie smiled at her fat stinking pig of a husband and wondered what she had ever seen in him. True, it was an arranged marriage and at first she was against it. But in his younger years Robert was handsome and clever with words, making her laugh. It ended quickly about three months into the marriage Cersie saw the real man. On their first anniversary, Robert gifted Cersie with her very first black eye and broken wrist. She had made a special dinner for them with some very high society folks and he didn't feel like showing. "It is our anniversary and we have to share it with assholes I hate? I am going to Vary's place." When she tried to stab him with a fork, he suddenly became an enraged bull. They would never stop fighting or hating each other from that moment forward. Cersie has already added a little more antifreeze to Robert's drink, as she always does.

Gregor was unmoved by tears, screams, pleas for mercy and offers to do anything to make it stop. Of course it is not usually his own men that are recipients of his torture. It is strange to hear his own deadly, sadistic men sound like victims and it amused him. Good. I hope it humiliated the shit out of them. I hope they have fucking nightmares. To have lost control in front of Tywin was unbearable. He blamed it firmly on his men and Bolton's boys. Tywin delivered a scathing lecture that hurt worse than physical pain. It injured Gregor's pride. Also he was just docked two week's pay for his own involvement in the fighting. So he is taking his pay and his injured pride out on his men. He spoke in a rumble that somehow was heard through the squealing misery of the men.

"You should all be feeling very lucky right now. In fact, tonight before you sleep if you even can sleep...I want you to each get on your knees and praise the name of Tywin Lannister. Because if he didn't need you all intact, you would end tonight in the fucking hospital with several broken bones. Instead, you are getting a creative little punishment I learned in the West. It is something they do to the slaves that don't wish to behave but must be kept pretty, in good health. It is incredibly painful and shaming, messy too, isn't it? But look at your bodies, sure, you are shaking and sweating, but no broken bones..no bruising. What an interesting name for it too. Rectal infusion. Thank goodness, Tywin's new chef had a good supply of several types of fresh hot peppers for me to blend up. Yes, this will be my new punishment for my men. Now..let's do one more round and then you can all BEG MY FUCKING FORGIVENESS AT MY FEET LIKE THE GROVELING BITCHES YOU ALL ARE!"


	10. Never Sparing The Rod, Forsaking The Children

The stone mansion that housed the Boltons for as long as the stone atrocity across the street housed the Starks. Both homes looked grim as if storms always must stop here first. Inside both homes there was warmth, lighting and shelter but the air was as cold as the folks who lived inside of them.

In the home of Roose Bolton, many men were crying like little boys. Like Ned Stark himself, Roose agrees that the Northern way of running a family and business must be ruthless. They took their discipline as seriously as they took their work. Ramsay was leaning over his father's hard oak table. He was gripping the edge and trying to bite through his lip to keep from screaming. 

Reek was under the table sobbing for his poor Master and it helped a bit. Yet when Roose finally peeled that long thin length of skin from Ramsay's left buttock off, he screamed out loud. He was then made to stand still while his ass burned horribly and endure a long lecture from his father. He was in tears by the time Roose allowed him to leave the room.

Reek helped his Master upstairs and treated his wounds. Then he ran to find the hidden stash of painkillers. Shoving three into his Master's panting mouth, Reek started to hum and rub the thick black hair covered in sweat. If I show enough affection, enough love maybe he won't hurt me for any of it.

He proved correct and his Master instead clung to his pet as he waited for the painkillers to kick in. "Poor baby, I am sorry they tried to put their filthy hands on you. It will never happen again, Reek." Using his mouth to show gratitude, Reek was clever enough to know how to distract Ramsay from jealousy and anger.

Locke, Luton and Yellow Dick took charge of the punishments for the Boys. However, it was exactly done as Roose commanded. Damon was whipped to tears by his very own favorite whip. Skinner lost the small toe on his left foot to his own blade. Alyn was beaten until he curled up whining like a broken animal.

"Now, you will heal and you will get the fuck back to work. Without anymore fucking problems, shall we? Good. Stupid fucking assholes, get out of Roose's house and go home! Tend your damned wounds, get your crying done with. Then pull up your Big-Boy pants and get the fuck back in the game!" Locke made sure to give a good kick to each of their whiny asses as they each sniveled out the door.

The Starks house was strict and cold as the Boltons, but with less bloodshed. Ned wasn't as violent as Roose was but he was certainly a believer in corporal punishment. He never spared the rod though he was sure that they spoiled their children to an extent. Not compared to the Lannisters perhaps, but more so than say the Boltons.

So Robb and Jon had presented themselves, pants pooling at their ankles, hands over their private areas. Ned wielded a strap and words as heavy as a sword. Both boys took it with as much masochism as possible but eventually Robb was sobbing and Jon was crying out with each blow. As soon as the boys were striped pink from shoulder to calf, Ned stopped.

"Jon, you will not be seeing your little wild girl for at least a week's time. You will be practicing your dedication to your work, both for me and your schooling. That means no long cell phone conversations with Ygritte instead of focusing. Robb, you will not interfere any further in the affairs of Theon Greyjoy. I have decreed this a thousand times but this time I am making it stick. I have need of you, this time is so crucial for us! We cannot afford distractions, you cannot afford any distractions. If you go near that boy again in any way, Robb...I am going to not just marry Sansa off, but you as well. Think boys, your sisters are both going to be the Lannisters hostages! Because of Cat's stupid mouth, I have now lost Arya to them! We must be careful and plan very carefully how to save ourselves and them!"

Sighing as if tired and disgusted, Ned waved his hand at the boys. "You are dismissed, go to bed." He slumped into his chair to drink and watched as his disgraced sons slunk away in humiliation and pain.

Sansa and Arya were sitting on the roof in the chilly air sharing a joint. "So are you really going to marry him?" Asked Arya as she lay back staring at the uncaring moon. Nodding slowly, holding the smoke as long as she can, Sansa wished herself to fly.

Then she could leave this fucking pile of rocks forever. At least if she was to marry the prick, she could at least live in a warm sunny place. Maybe once they marry, she can convince Joff to leave this place.

"I have to. Are you really going to learn how to become my bodyguard?" Sansa asked as she lay down next to her sister, her little pint sized, temper tantrum prone sister. "I am. I have to." Sansa shook her head and said, "Well, the Lannisters suck, my fiance sucks, this whole thing sucks..but there is one bright spot out of it."

Arya raised an eyebrow and asked, "Oh yeah? And what would that be?" Giggling, Sansa managed to get out, "At least we won't have to be around mother anymore. No more gargoyle training." Both girls descended into stoned laughter that might have been mistaken for real humor. 

Jon ached as he climbed the stairs. He wanted to go lay down and take some Advil for his terrible pain. Maybe call or text Ygritte, let her know he is grounded but he can't yet. Whenever there is turmoil, whenever Ned fights with his wife, or whenever she is drunk or lonely, Cat gives Jon a quick look. It is nothing for anyone to wonder about except that when Jon receives the look he still cringes.

Tonight after Ned nearly hit Cat over losing Arya to the Lannisters, she gave that glance. Jon has been receiving that look since he was seven and knew exactly what it meant. It took time and painful training for Cat to make sure the boy knew what to do and never to tell. Jon even knew that sometimes, not always, but on occasion Cat even felt bad, felt guilty for what she made him do. But not enough to overcome her hatred of Jon and her bitterness towards Ned.

Ned sat in his study for hours brooding, as was his normal routine. Robb was in his room, fantasizing about Theon. The little boys were asleep and the girls were stoned on the roof. No one was there to see or hear Jon go into the master bedroom.

Cat was wearing only her blue bathrobe, though she has others, Jon always sees her in this one. He shuts and locks the door and turns as she shuts out all but one light. There are no words, rarely does Cat speak and she hates it if Jon talks.

Standing near the bed, holding the bedpost for support, Cat lifts her left leg to put her foot onto the mattress. Opening her bathrobe, Cat makes a vulgar movement with her pelvis and Jon got the message. As he always has done and will continue to do until he can free himself, Jon drops to his knees. Then crawls forward until he is between his step mother's legs. Using his tongue and fingers, Jon makes Cat moan and yank his long curls hard.

"Yes, that's it. Come on little cunt-licker, its all you are good for, bastard. Your mother was a whore, so you are too. So make me come, little whore." She would hiss as she is close.  As Jon's excellent work pays off, Cat begins to climax and she whines out, "Oh, I hate you so much! I hate you, hate you." Jon feels her wetness spread across his face, then she kicks him away hard.

Without a word, Jon gets up and leaves as fast as he can. With the lingering feeling of her hated step-son still buzzing between her legs, Cat went to bed and hoped Ned wouldn't want to fuck when he finally made it upstairs.


	11. Communication Can Be A Problem

The two girls never looked better in their whole lives. Sansa looked as if she has stepped out of a fashion magazine. The heels she wore were not only a one of a kind original but they were two inches higher than Cersie's. And that has always been Cersie's trademark, was to be the only one with priceless, incredibly dangerously high heels.

In that grand moment alone, Cat was never more happier or in more love or prouder with her daughter since she was born. She has become officially betrothed to Joff and moved into the Baratheon home with gentle grace. True, she has barely spoken to her parents since the day she met Joff, but no matter. Eventually Sansa will adjust to her new life and by the time kids come along, she will want her parents back in her life.

Arya was tone, she was fit and she was as accurate and deadly as any new recruit. She stood tall and proud, next to her sister, watching for danger. Ned had gone to see her training and was impressed as hell. He could only watch some of it, Gregor didn't allow visitors beyond the basic exercise area. What he did see was a relentless weight lifting session, a somewhat brutal karate lesson and a rather bullying personal trainer. Arya took it all stoically and slowly achieved what was demanded of her. Ned was prouder of her than of his own sons.

And that was without knowing about how they water boarded her, taught her defense by beating her with Bo staffs among other things. Without knowing that she cried at night, her pains were so bad she couldn't sleep most nights. However, she took her move with silent proud grace alongside her sister. It wasn't very long before she became as silent, sarcastic, stoic and bitter as Sandor. Ned regretted that she no longer spoke to her parents, but Arya will come around.

Ned had to give up his office to Tywin and make a new one for himself. His status was suddenly a step lower in the cooperate world and it stung like hell. Roose had to give up his office to Tyrion and fire his best employee to take his office. Where Ned ruled the upper crust, Roose ruled the working classes.

His factories, his warehouses, all the way to some other interests all had shades of grey to them that he wanted kept secret. He resented having to shift and bury things in order to hide them from a fucking dwarf. Robert was sent to most punishing, demeaning yet out of the way location possible. He sat at a desk of the Stark Historical Fundraising Society and pretended to work and not just get drunk, seething.

Cat had the displeasure of escorting Cersie and introducing her into Northern Society. She had to smile gracefully as Cersie cut those most important to Cat. Cersie had to tolerate the utter boredom and cold prim blandness of Northern Society. She had to smile gracefully as that horrid cunt Cat and her prune faced friends all laughed at Cersie's disdain and discomfort.

They despised each other and yet they were the best of friends according to every gossip rag that found them. Because of their men, because of their children these two were now eternally tied to each other, doomed to hateful companionship. Together they argued over the wedding plans so badly that Petyr and Varys had to come in as referees more than consultants.

Varys and Petyr were having their struggles as well. Blatant and not so blatant sabotage has been happening to shipments for both. Spies and double agents were so thick that paranoia was running rampant among employees. Their usual traders and clients were thrilled and enjoying raising their demands to see which can supply at the best prices.

Ramsay and Robb found themselves having to work together, much to their great dismay. Robb was still banned from asking anything about Theon, so therefore Ramsay took great joy in tormenting him about the pet. The only time the two of them were not locked in argument was when they were on duty. They escorted those of importance, they took charge of up-keeping certain loans, bribes and negotiations. Ramsay's boys provided all the back up and threat needed.

Gregor and his boys were in charge of keeping personal safety of the Lannisters, as well as providing the reaction if the boys' threat was not heeded. Sandor took care of the Baratheons and he also watched over the little Stark brat though he never let her know that. Jon had become so into Ygritte to escape his shitty family and his position there that his father no longer found him any good work. He is now mainly in charge of getting messages and sensitive deliveries from one place to the next. He is in charge of himself and four other messengers.

One of them is Ygritte and that was only after Ned discovered that she had worked for Mance Rayder. One of Ned's main competitors in the North. He was in need of staying in good graces with other Northerners right now. So when Mance told Ned he was happy to lend Ygritte, he had no choice but to say yes. Luckily, she was one of his most dependable new recruits. Joff is the most popular rich asshole to hate in town. He has an office he has never visited at the same building as his father. He will never go to it, something he vows fervently.

Instead he starts at the University and parties his way through his day. He never misses any social obligation that he must attend with his fiance however. Smiling with love and admiration, he will whisper insults to Sansa as they dance together. They have a hatred so perfectly suited that it almost is a fond thing. They look forward to the battles with each other more than with anyone else.

Just to relieve tension enough to truly keep his "words only" battling with his fiance, Joff has Petyr supply him with whores that don't mind screaming and bleeding. Just like his father, Joff knows enough to wait until Sansa is his and behind closed doors before using other means of fighting. Then they will see just who has the upper hand.


	12. Block Parties Can Ease Tensions Unless You Live Here

Cersie stared at Cat without blinking then slowly said, "What the hell is a winter block party?" Myrcella rolled her eyes as Tommen bemoaned, "Mother, you are such a high class out of touch snob! Haven't you even seen one in a movie?" Absentmindedly, Joff smacked his brother in the back of his head with a heavy butter-knife. "Don't be so rude to our mother!" Sansa barely had time to move out of the way before Robert reached past her to crack Joff in the head with his own butter-knife. "Don't hit your brother!" 

Cat gave a tiny fake smile to them all and commented lightly, "Ah, family breakfast time always brings out the roughhousing. I had not meant to be so rude, I forgot in the South things are slower. We had breakfast an hour or more ago and I just knew you would need to hear of the seasonal block parties. I had remembered that you have never attended one, Cersie. I wasn't sure if Robert had mentioned them or not. Basically the entire neighborhood will set up heated booths on the street or simply open their houses. We all share food and drink we create, some folks also offer games and sports havens for the men. Others create areas for children or teens. For a good amount of neighbors, its a good way to show off some artwork, for others to show and maybe sell some crafts or services. A skating rink is set up and there are sleigh rides through the snow as well."

"I don't understand. That sounds like a market, an open air market or a fair. We have those in the South, we don't perform them in our streets where our homes are." Robert sighed and texted Varys to hurry and soothe his wife before he ends up having to deal with her. Once Cat leaves, Robert knows who Cersie will turn on. "It gets cold and dark here for a long time in the winter, this is a tradition from way back. Here is a list of what you may wish to have for it. I will let you get back to your meal, call me later with any questions, Cersie." Cat waved to the others but only the two youngest waved back. Sansa has not looked nor spoken to her mother willingly in weeks now.

As soon as the door shut behind her, Cat could hear Cersie and Robert yelling at each other. At first she grinned, then she frowned catching sight of Arya. She was sitting with that ugly behemoth that watches over the Baratheons. Her daughter should be in school and not freezing while eating a fast breakfast during early surveillance practice. Cat tried to wave but Arya was as stubborn as her sister. A sense of determination came over her and she stormed towards Arya. "Young lady, I wish to speak with you." Sandor shook his head angrily and Arya ignored her mother, walking faster to get away. "YOUNG LADY! ARYA STARK, DO NOT DARE TURN YOUR BACK ON ME!" Her temper has risen and Cat would be damned if her daughter would just snub her.

A large shadow came over her and Cat looked up, gasping. "How..how dare you get in my way! That is my daughter!" Gregor looked down and grumbled out, "On her time off she is your daughter. Right now she is on my time. She cannot be disturbed on my time, Mrs. Stark." Cat huffed but she turned and went back to her house carefully moving past the ice. Just to walk inside and encounter an angry husband. "You haven't run a block party in four years, Cat! What the fuck are you trying to do to me?" The fighting allowed Robb and Jon to both get out of the house before being noticed. They weren't in the mood for anymore fighting, but they weren't talking to each other either. Robb blamed Jon for his position with Ramsay. If Jon had been more loyal he would be working with Robb instead. Jon felt if Robb was more loyal he wouldn't have let his father demote him.

"JEYNE!" Damon roared from the kitchen, "DON'T YOU ANSWER THAT FUCKING DOOR! ITS NOT ANYONE YOU WANT TO SEE." She had just grasped the knob of the door when she heard the yell. Sighing, Jeyne looked out the peephole and saw Robb Stark. As she started to walk back towards the kitchen, Reek came towards the door. "No, don't get that! It's Robb. Come into the kitchen and let Ramsay get it himself." Jeyne held out her hand and waited for him to take it. Theon knew better than to go anywhere near Robb and eagerly latched onto Jeyne, hurrying towards the kitchen. Damon came out of the kitchen to see the two hurrying towards it. He gave them both a shove and grumbled, "Go get breakfast cleaned up in there." Damon waited until they were both out of sight before opening the door. "What the fuck are you doing on the doorstep? Can't you text or call Ramsay like normal fucking folks if he is running late?"

"I tried to do both several times now. It is freezing out here and I want to get to work. Where the hell is he?" Snarled Robb and Damon shrugged. "I am not his keeper." Ramsay came downstairs and grinned. "Hey there, Robb. Sorry, running a bit behind. On my way, buddy." He said as he slowly got a jacket and gloves on. The two of them argued the second Ramsay got to the door and it continued until they pulled out of the driveway. Damon shook his head and went back into the kitchen. Reek was waiting at the door holding the trash and Damon went to open the door. "Hurry back, its freaking cold." He muttered and the boy nodded, hobbling fast towards the trash cans. Reek hurried back and he shut the door fast, shivering. It was a major inconvenience for Reek to have a no touching shut doors rule, but Damon wasn't about to argue with the paranoid Ramsay over it.

Jeyne dried her hands on the dishtowel and then came to wrap her arms around Damon. "Damon, Kyra, Violet and Myranda are going together to the block party." He shrugged and grinned down at her. "So what? Why do I care what those sluts do?" She tried to give him puppy dog eyes and asked, "Can I go with them, please?" "No, you can't. I will take you when Ramsay takes Reek." Damon laughed when his girl pouted and he waited to see if she was going to try and change his mind. As soon as Reek left the room to do his chores, Jeyne knelt before Damon and indeed tried to change his mind. To her great annoyance, the first thing Damon said afterwards was, "You can go with me or you can not go at all. I told you already until I am sure the Mountain and his boys aren't going to fuck with us, you aren't allowed out without one of us with you." Angrily, Jeyne got up and crossed her arms, nearly in tears with frustration. "Its been weeks! I am not used to being this cooped up, Damon! I just want a tiny bit of freedom."

Damon grabbed her by the throat and pulled her closer, squeezing just enough to make her eyes widen. "You can go with me or not at all. End of discussion now, right?" "Yes." Jeyne managed and he kissed her forehead before releasing her. "Be good while I am out today and I'll give you a present tonight." He said, smacking her ass playfully but a tad too hard as he went to find Alyn.


	13. Forcing Connections

Cersie would never have known Sansa or her sister existed if it weren't for meals. She took no part in family activities unless they were to be public. Since Cersie hasn't managed to get her family in any activities, that took care of any extra time with her daughter in law to be. In fact, even though Cersie knows both girls are capable of speech, she can't recall ever hearing Arya talk at all. The girl is like a mini-Hound, the family's pet name for Sandor. She follows him or Sansa or sometimes is gone for hours in training.

Whenever Cersie thinks of that little brat among Gregor's men she shudders. It wasn't right and Cersie does regret her stupid petty attack on Cat. Now her Joff is constantly complaining that anytime he wishes to see Sansa he has no privacy. It wasn't his Hound he objected to, it was the girl. Finally, too busy with this stupid block party list, Cersie yelled, "Fine! Tell that girl to come see me right now! Then leave me be, Joff!"

Fifteen minutes later the little goth punk brat was glaring up at her. "Yes, Mrs. Baratheon?" Cersie attempted a smile. "Ah, there you are! Arya, dearest, you are so young to be doing this kind of work. Are you sure you aren't wanting at least a small break back home to think things over? I am willing to spare you." The girl raised one eyebrow and firmly responded, "No, I am fine. Even Gregor says for someone so small I have amazing endurance. I do not complain and I am grateful for the opportunity to learn from the best."

Gritting her teeth Cersie tried a different approach. "I am glad you are doing well and of course, I will not disturb your learning. However, there must be a change in your position. I would like you to mainly guard Tommen and Myrcella." Arya bristled with anger and said, "That was not the agreement made. I am here to watch over my sister while I learn from the Cleganes and their men. Your father himself agreed to that." Just then Varys hollered something from the other room and a crash came from from the kitchen.   

"I do not have time for this, young lady! Either watch the younger children or go home." Snapped Cersie before she ran towards a burnt vanilla scented catastrophe. Ten minutes later Sandor intercepted Arya as she was storming across the lawn towards the Lannisters. "What the fuck are you doing? I have been making those two little shits wait for us and they are ready to rip each others head off!"

Arya spun around and yelled, "Its not my problem anymore! At least not according to fucking Cersie! That cunt just told me I can be a nanny for the little kids or to fuck off home!" Sandor sighed and shook his head. "She can't decide shit for you. Are you going to tattle on her to Tywin?" Arya shook her head, "I am going to tell Gregor I need assurance that she can't take my fucking job from me."

Sandor got in her way and nearly shrieked, "ARE YOU FUCKING CRAZY? WHY DO YOU WANT TO PROVOKE HIM? Look...you are a little pampered rich girl that just has a rich little girl problem and you are going to get yourself killed someday. Why don't you go the hell home and just get on with your life? Or at least use your Stark name to just get Tywin to shut Cersie up. Why fuck with my brother and his boys? What are you trying to do? Who do you fucking have to prove shit to so badly? You know, if Tywin ever stops giving his protection to you, you know what they would do to you?"

Arya grinned up at Sandor and said, "I am not trying to prove anything to anyone. Except one person, I guess. Yeah...just one." Sandor rolled his eyes and started to head back to escort the unhappy couple. "Wait..who is the one person?" He asked, and she yelled over her shoulder. "Me. Just me." Snorting, Sandor yelled, "I hope Gregor doesn't bury you where I sit for sentry duty. I like to jack off there when I am working late." With a shudder, Arya retorted, "I know. I've had sentry duty with you twice now." It was only seconds after Arya entered the large brick house at the back of Tywin's estate before the catcalls started. 

This was not unusual and Arya did as always, ignored them. They will crowd her, on occasion try to trip her up but that is all. When she was brought in the first time, it was between Tywin and Gregor. That told the boys exactly how far they could go and they did push that limit but never have they crossed it. However they enjoyed taunting the girl with how far they would go if ever given a chance. Arya doesn't cry, she never starts fights with them. She will defend herself, Arya does work hard and they all are somewhat impressed at how much she has already picked up. It doesn't bother them to train a girl, she is not the first girl to train or fight with them.

However, they are usually only around long enough for the training to get rough, then they beg the Lannisters for a transfer. By now, Arya should have been on her knees pleading to go elsewhere. They have assumed this is why she is here when she should be on duty. She actually thinks she almost hears disappointment in their voices. "Aww..little girlie has had enough of us? Don't wanna play anymore? Is it because I broke your lil piggie toes during practice?"

Arya rolled her eyes at Polliver and then Raff was in her way. "We can throw you a nice going away party if you want? Pink icing on a cake and fruit punch? Hmm?" Arya muttered, "I am not quitting. I need to speak with Gregor." Fingers played with her hair and Arya stepped back hard on toes. "I am not here for you, Tickler. I am trying to get to Gregor if you would all let me pass." 

Dunsen grabbed her wrist and pulled her forward a bit. "Why do you need to see Gregor badly enough to risk punishment for leaving your shift? You aren't puking or shitting blood, are you? If you aren't sick or quitting then you should get the fuck back to work. Because nothing you have to speak to him about is worth discipline for deliberately disobeying orders."

Arya smirked coldly and said, "Thank you for your concern. I have no shift right now, you see. That is why I need to speak with Gregor. Cersie just took me off my shifts and I would like Gregor to reinstate me or whatever it is he has to do." Laughter ensued and Polliver gasped out, "Oh, please say it just like that! Tell Gregor to do whatever he must to put you where you want to be. That should go really well. I hope he let's us help or at least watch this."

Gregor loomed over them all and asked, "What is so fucking hysterical that we can't get any work done today? AND WHY THE FUCK AM I STARING AT A LITTLE GUTTER RAT WHO SHOULD BE ON HER SHIFT?"


	14. Like A Good Neighbor, Stay The Fuck Over There

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for the very late update to this story!   
> When I was a kid I remember my parents watched certain shows with fervor. Dallas, Falcon Crest and Knots Landing. I found the shows incredibly boring of course. All except for one thing. These little dramas had one thing in common, a very popular thing. They had rich, lovely, graceful ladies suddenly break into huge dramatic cat fights. If you are too young to know what these shows are..I encourage you to go on youtube and look up a clip of Falcon Crest's best cat fights. So the second half of this chapter will be a sort of tribute to that memory. Enjoy!

"WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU WANT?" Gregor leaned over Arya and the boys all were laughing softly, watching carefully. Like a pack,they circled, smelling blood and wanting to have some of it. "I..I was just fired by Cersie. She said for me to watch the little children as a nanny or leave. She gave no reason for it at all." Nodding, Gregor asked slowly, "Do you work for Cersie or do you work for me? Who assigns guards and shifts?" Swallowing hard, Arya replied, "I work for Tywin and train with you." 

Raff groaned out, "Oh, I think I actually feel bad for the little bitch." Gregor shook his head and talked even more slowly as if speaking to a brain damaged child, "No, stupid girl. You got Tywin's permission to work for me. Let me explain very carefully to you how this works. You are being fostered at the Baratheons and working for me. Trained by my men and mentored by Sandor at Tywin's request. So Cersie can squawk all she would like, I choose who does what under my employ. If anyone has an issue with anything you do..they must come to me. If Cersie is bothered by you living in the house, then you won't. I shall reassign you new sleeping quarters. Does that satisfy your question?" Arya nodded.

"Fucking wonderful. So now that we have that clarified for you, do you know what comes next?" Gregor grinned and Arya shook her head. "No..what is next?" The boys all got comfortable to watch the show they knew was coming.

Sandor was escorting Sansa into the house along with Joff when Gregor came bursting in. Cersie had been arguing with Robert about why his house was literally stinking of chocolate, vanilla in the kitchen. The large giant thundered into the room to stand over Cersie. Sansa and Joff rushed forward hoping to see some drama. Sandor had been worried for that stupid little brat all day and he was in the doorway hoping Gregor wasn't here to announce the regretful death of Arya Stark.   

Robert groaned and said, "If you are here to kill my wife, just let me leave the room first, would you?" Cersie glared at Robert then up at Gregor hiding her nervousness. "What do you want, Gregor?" He grinned down at her and his booming voice nearly knocked her over. "I have solved your problem for you, Cersie. Since you were unhappy with Arya's services, I have taken steps to rectify what must have been a terrible offense on Arya's part. She was caned and relieved of four toenails. I have moved her to the barracks where my men reside. She will have a curtain for privacy. Her job will no longer be to guard Sansa. Her only job until she is better trained will be to learn under my men and she will still be under Sandor's mentor-ship. So she will follow him about, but I'll make sure if anything threatens your son or Sansa...that she does not interfere. Just watch. Oh, I made sure to have Dusten give this same message to your father and the Starks."

Gregor stormed out the door as Robert started to yell even louder at his wife. As Gregor shut the door he heard a loud smack and Cersie cry out along with Sansa. He smiled and headed back to the barracks. An hour later Sandor found Arya limping back from the cab she took to Qyburn's clinic. Sandor snorted as he looked her over.

"You are lucky. When Gregor discipline's me, I never get pain medication for it. And yet...here you are back for more. Are you crazy?" Arya grinned in spite of her painful slow gait. "Yep. Must be. Can you help me pack my stuff to move to the barracks?" Sandor shook his head. "You really can't stay there. Do you have any idea what will happen once Gregor leaves for the night?" Arya grinned at him and said, "Oh...I won't be sleeping there. Just wait and watch." Sandor looked down on her with a raised brow. Giggling briefly, Arya simply said, "Momster."

Cersie finally had three seconds to herself. Varys has been in and out all morning all in a dither over this foolish block party. Robert had only slapped her so she had no swelling, thanks goodness. Regardless, she was laying on the couch with ice for the third time, just in case. She heard heels clicking towards the living room and softly hissed. Damn it, how many times did she tell that fucking maid not to let anyone in while she was resting?

"You rotten syphilitic cunt. It's bad enough you are forcing me to allow my eldest daughter to marry your little fucked up son! Bad enough you stole my younger daughter and gave her over to a life of constant danger. You fucking dared to complain about Arya after you put her in that position!" Cersie was on her feet now as Cat snarled and came closer.

"Before you continue insulting me, why don't you hear the real facts?" Cersie bit out coldly, her chin held high and eyes glittering with anger. Cat walked quickly over to a very expensive lamp that Cersie had to give over so much money to Varys for, that Robert nearly broke her jaw. With a baring of her teeth, Cat lifted the lamp and threw it at the decorative mirror only a foot from Cersie.  Both smashed and littered the expensive rug that had been imported from Pentos. "Oh, you fucking bitch!" Cersie screeched, hands hooked into claws. Cat snarled out, "Gregor caned her! He pulled out her toenails! Moving her to the barracks, we both know what would happen, don't we?"

Cat launched herself forward as if she were truly a cat, hissing and out for blood. She raked her newly manicured nails into Cersie's lovely cheek and tried to rip it like paper. Cersie screamed and tried to snatch the woman bald. Cat shoved forward hard and Cersie's head nearly bounced off the wall. "You backwards, stone cold, dried up old cooze!" Cersie growled and slapped Cat so hard that her head snapped to the side. Eyes narrowing, Cat spit out, "You fight like a Southern girl, you incestuous slut, this is how we hit in the North." Cersie couldn't move fast enough and Cat's fist crashed into the same cheek that Robert had slapped.

One hour later Gregor received a text from Cersie asking that Arya Stark be given a room next to Sandor's in the house. He read it with no surprise and granted it. Arya wasn't surprised either.


	15. How To Party Like A Native

Ramsay felt he owned the local tavern as much as Rob did. After all, when Tormund needed a loan who else would he turn to but Starks and Boltons when the bank said no? It was nicer than most downtown, but it wasn't quite up to the caliber of the places most of the upper class go. Therefore it was perfect for the children of that upper class, just grungy enough for snooty folks to stay away, for their parents it was too trashy to enter. 

The Wildling was considered neutral territory, drunken fights are over everything but territories. That is for outside. This was a safe haven regardless of who you worked for. The pool tables, the dart boards, the dance floor, it was for anyone as was the bar and arcade. On the right side of the bar was one booth that had its wooden table emblazoned with a wolf's head. On the left side of the bar was another booth with the flayed man on the wood.

It was clear that those two tables remained empty unless a Stark or Bolton are using them. It was an unspoken rule.

The night before the stupid block party and it was clear that everyone in here was running from another eager planner of some sort. Robb was so eager to finally not just be off duty with Ramsay but to be out of his mother's house. Cat was in high gear, trying to force her web around everyone and he and Jon fled as fast as they could. Robb was so thrilled to be out that he didn't even bother to argue when Ramsay showed up at the same time he did with Theon in tow. Instead, he grabbed Jon and nearly ran into the dark bar, bellowing for drinks.

Ramsay grinned and hugged his pet. "Let's go, boys!" Damon lifted Jeyne on his shoulders and crashed into the bar while she giggled. Theon shrunk more into Ramsay as he always did when things got too crazy. Things around Ramsay got crazy a lot of the time but he never did get used to it. His Master likes him this way so he clings and whimpers and Ramsay teased him softly for cowardice as they went to their booth. Skinner and Alyn joined them in the booth. Jeyne went to visit her girlfriends and Damon was already taking bets for a pool game.

Ygritte leaped up from the bar stool and hugged Jon, then they slid into the booth with Robb. "Your uncle must love the extra income with all the new men." Robb commented taking a long swig of his beer. Shaking her head, Ygritte leaned into Jon. "No, they haven't come in once he said. They haven't gone to any bar, anywhere. They stay on the compounds or leave town completely far as we can tell." Shrugging, Robb said, "That's probably for the best. I don't think they'd enjoy our place anyway."

 

Polliver stood still and watched Arya Stark with raptor eyes. "Someday, she will fuck up, and then I'm gonna fuck her. I'm gonna use her knife to do it first to loosen her up. Little stuck up cunt." Dusten snorted as he watched the brat stiffly walking next to Sandor as if she hasn't just gotten her ass kicked yet again. "She really tries though, I will give her that. I mean we have thrown everything at her and she just keeps coming back for more. There are some serious anger management issues there."

Raff took a large swig out of his bottle and stared dreamily at another figure crossing the driveway. "I'm going to go rape that one, right there." He pointed with a languid arm towards Sansa Stark who was running from her mother. Rolling his eyes, Dusten said, "You are going to rape Sansa Stark? Don't you think that might cause a problem for you? Just a little one?"

Raff wasn't smiling now and that was creepier than most would think. "I haven't raped. I haven't fought. I haven't done a single fucking thing. I threaten, I invade in careful formation as we are told to. I do everything I am told and I freeze my balls off!  We do nothing, I am fucking bored. I train that little brat and wonder why she and I seem to have the SAME FUCKING CURFEW?"

Dusten stood up, stretching. "Alright, time to head to the bar gentlemen. I have had it. Gregor is in that stupid meeting with Tywin for half the night anyway. Then he has a girl ordered from Petyr to finish the night with, God help the poor thing. So let's take a visit to this Wildlings place." Tickler tilted his head. "Yeah, and what did Gregor say the punishment would be for going into a local bar?" Shrugging, Dusten grabbed his coat and boots. "He never said. Just said to avoid the local bars until things are settled down. I'd say things are settled well enough, right?"

When they entered the bar, they weren't impressed with anything but the roaring fire that ran along one wall. Stomping the ice off their boots, they entered and slowly adjusted to the darker lighting as the headed into the main room. 

"Well, would you look at that, gentlemen. The two lords set up their camps and there are all the knights playing games while the ladies dance. Good grief, get a fucking picture of it, its too precious for words." Sneered Dusten to the others as everyone slowly looked up and went still. Damon snapped his fingers and Jeyne left the girls to press herself against his side, her head down on his chest. He idly twirled his pool stick leaning against the wall, watching them walk towards the bar. 

From their booths Ramsay and Robb exchanged brief glances. Ramsay pulled his pet closer, "Reek, I got you the potato skins, eat them. It's a treat, sweetie. Go on." Then he turned back to Skinner and their conversation. Robb picked up his drink and began to speak with his friend and coworker Jory. Jon and Ygritte continued their game of darts. Slowly everyone went back to what they had been doing but every eye was watching the newcomers.  

It took less than twenty minutes for the first fist to fly.


	16. Learning The Social Rules Can Be Hard

At first things seemed like they would be alright after all.

Though their fathers would never believe them on it, Ramsay and Robb actually tried to keep the peace. Their folks tried as well. The girls were dancing with Raff and Dusten all except for Ygritte, Jeyne and Gilly who has come with Jon's best friend Sam.

Damon played a game of pool with Polliver while Jeyne sat with Ramsay and Reek. Tickler and Ygritte engaged in a game of darts with Jon occasionally joining in. Then the door flung open again and more entered. 

Sansa and Joff stood there staring before Joff tried to pull her away.

Sneering, he said, "I've changed my mind about this slumming adventure."

She let go of his arm, shrugging. "Fine, I'll get a ride home later then."

With a smile as loving as a poisonous viper, Joff moved closer to her. "I can't go home alone, dearest, you know that. Let's go somewhere else without causing a scene."

In a sweet voice, Sansa leaned into her fiance and whispered, "I know you are nervous, my love, but my two brothers are here. Mountain's men are here. All those that must protect us, right? How safer can we be? Or...is it that they all are workers...and you are too lofty to sit and share a drink with them?"

Joff shoved her away from him and he took her hand, this time crushing hard, grinding the fine bones. Sansa's face flinched slightly then smoothed out.

" I want you to know when mother discovers that we skipped away from Sandor and Arya, I am telling her it was your idea. You are right, we might as well finish out slumming. Let's go get a table near your brother. Don't want to sit on the Bolton side. Wouldn't look right, would it?"

The room went still and all watched as their version of royalty came into their sanctuary. It was offensive and intrusive to them all. This was the one place where all sides could go and not have to serve. Not have to carry out someone else's agenda.

However, no one could tell Joff and Sansa to leave. Not if they wanted to go home without some form of punishment bestowed upon them. This are the golden children, the brats, the privileged children that must be catered to, protected and treated as if they were shitting gold.

Even Robb and Jon had felt the extreme difference in their upbringing. They received hard labor, beatings to harden them further and scarce approval. Robb might be the favored son but it didn't mean his father was any more loving.

Sansa learned how to be polite and pretty and when she did break a rule, father lectured her until she cried. On rare occasion, their mother would strike her or beat her, but usually because mother was drunk again.

So the boys had very little sympathy for her. Though they did agree marrying Joff was pretty horrible. It was actually hard for them to not smile when she was first told. They were not smiling now at all. They waited until the couple sat in the booth before Robb got up and went over to them.

His face was composed, it was casual but his were not at all. Robb's blue eyes clashed into his sister's.

"Sansa, why are you here? There are some more appropriate bars uptown for you to visit. This is the first night the Mountain boys have joined us and you might make tensions rise. Please go."

Joff glared at Robb and said, "Why the fuck would us sitting here having a drink be a problem?  We know most of the men here, don't we? So why can't we have a drink if we choose to? Go away, Robb. I don't need you breathing down our necks. The only one making a scene is you. Sansa doesn't need your fucking opinion, asshole."

Joff waved his hand at Robb as if to shoo him away. Robb grinned fiercely at Joff, leaning closer, crowding the blonde boy into his seat. Sansa refolded her napkin neatly, her lips slightly curved.

"No one here is working right now. And I imagine that everyone here including Sansa, would really love to take a shot at you. You should watch your fucking mouth, Joff. Because in here you don't having any power over us. And if anyone here decides to punch you, none of us will admit to seeing it happen."

Robb went back to his seat to glower at the couple. 

Sansa made a gesture to the waitress and tried very hard not to laugh at Joff.

"Who the fuck does that bitch think she is? Princess needs a drink? Fucking sterling service coming up."

The offended waitress spit in the glasses before drying them and putting them on a tray, filled with wine. She offered them with a humble smile.

Ramsay got up, stretched and walked over to slide next to Robb.

"Hey there, buddy. Uh, what the fuck are the prince and princess doing? Things are going okay for now but..."

Robb moved as far as he could from Ramsay, but his demeanor was disgust, not fear. 

"I tried to ask them to leave, tried to explain but they won't listen. Fucking little prick won't even let her speak to me. He fucking never shuts up."

"We aren't responsible for them tonight. I swear to god, I'm not saving their asses if things go bad.' Ramsay stated flatly.

Rob snorted.

"Yes you will and yes we are. You know that our fathers expect us to keep them safe, regardless of the circumstance."

Ramsay growled and went back to his table. He found a reason to slap Reek's face, to get an outlet for his irritation. He chided his pet for clumsiness, dropping a glass. This was a common occurrence to do Reek's loss of fingers.

This caused Robb to stare over in growing agitation, every part of him wanting to go and beat the shit out of Ramsay. Another drink didn't stop that feeling and he continued to watch as his broken beloved Theon cried and begged Ramsay to forgive him.

Robb was so busy watching Ramsay harass Theon, Ramsay was busy harassing Reek and so neither of them saw the danger brewing.


	17. Moving Involves Unexpected Changes

Sandor growled as he parked at the Wildlings bar.

"Ah, fuck. Tywin will have my fucking head. Gregor will take off my other ear and if you get hurt I'll have the fucking women down my throat. You are just going to have to stay right here. Those little fucking shits...they had to go slumming here. And look at the damned cars. Its a perfect fucking storm of Boltons, Stark's, Mountain's men and yeah for some fucking fun, let's just throw a Lannister in there. I need to either get them out of there or stay and keep anyone from removing their cute little heads."

Arya stared at the man as if he'd lost his mind.

"What if they stay till closing? I have to sit in your stinky ass truck until then? Fuck you. If I can't go in, I'm calling an car and heading back. I'm not allowed to actively get involved anyway. Just following your ass all day now in between getting the shit kicked out of me in the name of training. My one damned night off and I stupidly ask you for a ride. I'm out of here."

Sandor growled.

"Fine, but stay in the truck until the car gets here. I fucking mean it. Stay inside the truck with it locked until your ride shows. You don't know everyone coming out of this bar anymore."

"Fine, gotcha. Go before Joff gets my sister killed or something."

Waving him off, Arya rolled her eyes.

She DID know everyone, pretty much. The Bolton's wouldn't mess with her and she works with the Mountain's men. Everyone here knew her name, who would touch her? Turning Sandor's music stations around to music she enjoyed, she waited for the ride which was at least sixteen minutes away.

Sandor headed inside the bar and started to search for one red and one blonde bobbing heads.

 

Cersei knew that it was her fault that the house was bereft of children this evening. There were items everywhere, hired workers everywhere for this stupid block party. The smell in the house was nauseating. It was like being attacked by a Christmas bakery. Overwhelming, choking levels of vanilla, chocolate and nutmeg.

Varys pleaded that when Petyr had sold him the atrocities of machinery, the smells were not mentioned. In fact Petyr had expressed surprise and even gave the money back instantly. However, his eyes were as jolly as fuck and Varys planned to pay the fucker back.

The machines did work however, so Cersie installed them in a tent on the lawn as of this evening. But even allowing all the windows open to freeze them all, the smell was still heavy enough to ruin the taste of dinner.

So Marcella and Tommen had gone to eat and sleep with the damned Stark kids. Joff and Sansa left to go get a drink. Sandor had gone to drive them and watch them. Cersie had no idea where the brat was and she didn't care.

As long as the kid wasn't being mauled or killed, Cersei preferred to ignore her existence. Probably hiding in her room or practicing with those rough men. Her main concern was being alone with Robert. He was annoyed at the smells and chaos, nothing new. But he had been drinking at work, a very bad sign for her.

Robert cannot comprehend why he has been essentially dumped by his so called loyal friends. Left to rot in a dusty office where no one cares to know him. The only times the men even contact him is if its business. Cersie has been listening to Robert complain constantly and she hasn't an ounce of empathy for him. All during dinner he stared wrathfully at her while complaining about the smell, the workers, the dinner. Cersei tried to ignore him and he threw everything off the table.

She tried to make it to the stairs but he caught her long hair and yanked her back. His meaty fists concentrated on her back, breasts and stomach, where no one will see the bruises. Cersei only cried out when the pain was too much to keep inside.

Reminding herself, this was nothing new, it happens, it is the bloody price of a husband picked out of a rebellion. He will beat her, he will pass out or go seek a whore. Cersie will tend her wounds and increase the amount of poison in his drink. And so it goes until he finally dies.

It really would have gone that way...it really might have.

Tonight Robert was extra angry and he decided to rape his hateful wife while beating her upon the staircase. They never heard the car pull up or Arya come inside. Cersie was too busy screaming for him to stop and Robert was too busy swearing and grunting. Arya heard Sandor in her head warning her not to interfere in anything. Not too SEE anything.

And sadly her own household was the same way, so she turned and left again. This time Arya went to get her own ride. She went to the shed on Stark property that housed her motor bike and helmet. With a grin she was off. Arya headed down the same road the bar was on with plans to go past and head towards the quarry.

Robert finally stopped hitting Cersie and his huge stomach stopped trying to drench her in his stinking sweat. He made sounds like a pig as he poured his useless, disgusting seed into her.

"Who have you been fucking since we arrived here, Cersie?"

He groaned out afterwards as he pulled out of her. She forced her aching, fouled body to calmly move to a sitting position.

"No one yet. You?"

Robert nodded gleefully as he drunkenly attempted to put his pants to rights.

"Oh fuck yes. About five girls now. They are fun, expensive, but fun. One of them, my favorite...she is a hottie, has fire red hair...when I fuck her I call her Sansa."

The taunt was no different than any other. A taunt she has heard so many times before, where he compares another younger girl to her, but to name the cunt that is marrying her beloved eldest son? While Cersie is wearing Robert's bruises, his sweat? He names that girl to her? Cersei had no idea she was going to shove Robert until she did.

Cersie had wanted to put carpets on the stairs, but Robert wanted all to be impressed with marble stairs. His head was nearly opened by the time Robert hit bottom and his neck was twisted and black.


	18. Courting Rituals Vary From Place to Place

Arya got to the quarry and carefully set her bike next to an old truck held together by duct tape and prayer. One of the headlights was actually three red solo cups stacked behind saran wrap. She grinned and climbed the rocks until reaching the top of the quarry. There were rock stairs built in but she had extra energy to spare. All the training, brutal as it was, it was giving her more energy, more endurance. She saw the flicker of a small campfire up ahead and went to join her school friends.

It was a small group but Arya was never the popular girl that her sister was. Gendry, Lommy and Hot Pie were all the friends she needed. She sat on a log and accepted a beer from Gendry.

"Hey, glad you finally found some fucking time for us. I can't believe your parents pulled you out of school and let you do online courses. Lucky brat."Gendry gave her a playful shove and lit a joint and handed it to her. Arya grinned and took a drag then handed it back.

"Yeah but it's worth it. Look at these guns, boys."

She showed off while the guys rolled their eyes but did seem to envy her new toned look.

 

Joff had been cornering and feeling up some whore named Kyra when all light seemed to flee the room. He looked up, way up and there was Sandor glaring down at him.

"It's been an hour. You each said you would only have one more drink. We should leave soon. This isn't a good place for you two."

Glaring back, Joff turned and raised his chin up at Sandor. The girl took the chance and fled towards the other side of the bar.

"There, look at that. Now I have to hunt the dumb whore down again. Why don't you fuck off somewhere? Sansa and I are having fun, we are fine. How much safer can we be, you idiot! Everyone in here is someone who must protect us...the building doesn't change that."

Sandor cursed and stormed off to relocate Sansa, hoping to talk some sense into her. He found her sitting in a booth with Jeyne and Ramsay's pet freak. Ramsay was over at the bar, Damon was over playing pool with Tickler but both kept their eyes flickering to keep an eye on their toys. He walked over to the booth and leaned over Sansa with as much intimidation as he could.

"It's time to go, princess. It is getting too late for you to be in this place. I'll take you and the brat boy anywhere else you want to go. Now." Sansa pouted then gave an innocent smile.

"Sure, Sandor. You are right, we should leave. You just let Joff know and he can come escort me out."

"You little clever bitch, I hate you."

He grumbled and out of frustration, he deliberately lunged towards Reek, baring his teeth and snarling.  The reaction was hysterical. The creature gave a cry and scrambled backwards almost over Jeyne to cower away from Sandor. Jeyne hissed at him.

"You asshole. Fuck off, what did he do to you? Try it again, I'll put a fork in your eye. See if I won't, prick, try it."

He stared at the slight girl but he noted her eyes were not timid regardless of what she appeared to be. Sneering, Jeyne answered his unspoken question.

"I'm submissive to Damon, cocksucker. No one else. And if you bother Reek again we'll see if Damon will let me maim you before calling me off."

Sansa leaned back and grinned, delighted.

"Gee, Sandor, I think you might want to get a drink and lay low. This place is dangerous for you."

He rolled his eyes and drawled out,

"If the dangerous things I have to worry about are just you three, then I'm pretty fucking safe. Fine, you and your prince go ahead and enjoy yourselves. I'm going to go sit outside for awhile, that way if you get your asses kicked or your necks slit I can say I never knew about it."

He turned to leave and a fist landed hard into his stomach. He grunted and stared at Ramsay Bolton.

"Really? Did you just break your flaying hand on me?"

Ramsay seethed but his hand did indeed hurt like fucking hell. Sandor grinned then finished his turn to leave the bar. Only to encounter another fist, this one on his chin, it felt like a wet hackey sack hit him.

"Oh, for fucks sake, Robb! Did you really leap for that?"

Sandor had Robb on the ground seconds later. His boot was on Robb's chest and he heard a groan from behind him.

"Fucking Robb..had it turn it into a fucking thing! NOW IT IS A THING!"

Sandor took a deep breath as Ramsay's gun pressed into his back, at the same time everyone went still and those who had guns, had them out. "Okay. I'm going to remove my boot from your little king and head out of the fucking bar now. Yeah? We all good with that?"

Robb stared up at Sandor and nodded. "Yeah, we are fine with that, right Ramsay?"

"Sure are, pal. You are the one I would really rather shoot right now anyway."

Sandor gently took his foot off of Robb and placed it on the ground with all the skill and grace of a ballerina on her tenth drink. "There, all better? Fuckers." He left the bar and went to kick the shit out of the asshole who Joff had paid to let him slip by. Sandor leaned against his truck and went through Joff's stolen phone to find the asshole.

Once the guns were put away, Kyra continued to skirt her way through the bar. She wanted to head out and get some air herself, but then she was yanked into a pair of arms. Polivar leered down at the pretty whore and crooned softly while swaying with her to the music.

"Don't worry, pretty thing. I can protect you from that little blonde boy. You are too pretty to waste on someone like him. Play with me instead." To his surprise, Krya gave a laugh and then dared to look at HIM with diversion.

"You disgusting, raving battle chode. Don't fucking touch me, I am NOT a whore. Only let him fondle me because I know the fucking rules and I know how to sacrifice for the North. Don't have to act nice for you though."

Polivar shook his head as if he may have had something in there preventing him from hearing correctly. Nah. He backhanded her hard enough for her to hit the wall. She shook her own head now, but then spit out the blood and grinned.

"Look up above me on the wall, you prick."

He looked and saw the framed picture of Ronda Rousey handing Kyra a trophy during a charity event. Oh.

"Now drop your weapons and let's do this correctly."

Polivar smiled and handed his weapons to Dusten, who has wandered over along with nearly every female in the place.

 

 


	19. The Parties of Young Folk

"What the fuck was that?"

Ramsay demanded as he slammed his hand into Robb's chest. A cheer came up nearby from the girls and Robb winced.

"Why don't you go see what the fuck is going on? Maybe if you were paying more fucking attention this shit wouldn't have started!"

Ramsay stared at Robb then laughed, shaking his head.

"Yeah...it's my fault. You had your eyes only on my pet instead of anything us, say like your daddies land. I had it, Robb...he is my pet, my problem not yours!"

A scream from Krya and a cheer from Mountain's men interrupted whatever he had to say. Robb turned to go stop whatever it was and Ramsay yanked him back.

"No..they have no weapons, things are fine...you and I we need to fucking talk. With everything going to shit for the North, you have got to get over your obsession with my pet. It's got to end...can't you find another man...anywhere? If it's blue balls...for the sake of keeping us all the fuck alive, I'll fuck you myself!" 

Robb shoved Ramsay and hollered at him but they couldn't hear anything but the girls all cheering again. Now it was Polivar that was screeching and they could hear all the men in the bar wince with sympathy for the man. Mance pushed his way into the small crowd.

"Now girlie, you now that ain't fair even for you ladies..let him go and give him back his weapons. Who the fuck even taught you that? I am calling it a loss for you, Krya for cheating. Boy, you want some ice or a doctor maybe?"

Dusten started to offer sympathy but his smile was too sadistically cheerful for Polivar to bear. He shoved away, limping outside and he pretended he wasn't in fucking agony. The fucking little cunt...he would need stitches...she nearly ripped it off...I'll kill her. I'll disembowel her...true, he had kneed her in the cunt hard to back her up but what she did...

Sandor was threatening someone on the cell, preparing to get into his truck, when Polivar staggered up to him.

"Give me a ride to the emergency room."

"No. Get one of your buddies to take you back home and see the doctor there. I'm staying here in case the royal fucking couple have trouble."

Polivar leaned over and spit blood and some vomit onto Sandor's boots.

"If I am internally injured and don't get seen in time...if I have a long recovery time, I'll tell Gregor his little brother watched one of his men just bleed there..."

Sandor huffed and rolled his eyes.

"Fine, get in the fucking truck. Why can't you just see the doctor at the house, why do I have to take you all the way to the hospital? You are walking, alive, still sadly not disemboweled."

Poliver turned red and faced the window and rolled it down to stick his head out of.

"None of your fucking business, just drive. It's past the quarry, saw it the other day when we got here."

 

Raff managed to slide right next to Sansa at the slowly dissipating circle around Kyra. She stared at him as if he were a cockroach that slithered into her space.

"Oh come on, I am more handsome than that little boy you are marrying."

Jeyne curled her hand around Sansa's arm, glaring and Reek stood frozen, his eyes looking towards Ramsay who was still fighting with Robb. Sansa smiled then ever so sweetly. 

"You are better looking and truly braver than he will ever be. And if you can somehow obtain a fortune and a powerful family for me to align with, we are an item. No? Then look elsewhere. Try Myranda, she is desperate to move up in the world and you are certainly her type."

Raff moved closer and smiled, speaking softly.

"Then since you are chaining yourself to that little pansy for life, you should at least have something to give you good memories. At least dance with me?"

Sansa laughed and thought, why just get drunk and sit in misery with fucking pets? No, those drinks have gone to her head and hell, between her legs. Lord knows, she hasn't ever done more than make out with a stable boy that died not one day after her mother caught on to it. I am engaged, I am marrying a man I loathe. This might be my one chance for a little fun, why not? Imagine Joff's indignation, imagine her mother finding out she slept with the hired help? Giving her virginity to a killer, a rapist, an underling like this? Yeah, time to live a little, fuck them all. 

Jeyne gasped and tried to hold onto Sansa when she nodded and headed into Raff's arms.

"Sansa, youre drunk! You aren't thinking! Come on, you want to dance? I'll dance or Reek, or Jon? Are you trying to start a fucking war?"

Jeyne tried to get between them, facing the redheaded drunk girl. Suddenly her hair was grabbed and her head was pulled backwards by Raff.

"Jealous or something? Get the fuck away and mind your own business. Unless you want me, huh? Is that it?"

Damon roared and that broke through even the heated fight between Ramsay and Robb. It also brought the attention to what was going on.

"GET YOUR FUCKING HANDS OFF MY GIRL!"

Joff began to head over at the same time as Damon.

"What the hell do you think you are doing, slut? The fucking help? You were gonna fuck some dirty rat of Gregor's just to give me some revenge disease?"

Raff shoved both Sansa and Jeyne hard into the booth next to him. Then he turned to face Damon and Joff, but at the moment his eyes were on the little blonde brat.

"What the fuck did you say, little prince?"

Robb and Ramsay shared a groan as they went forward but it was already too late. Steam needed to be released and the best Robb could do was shout, "No weapons! Mance will shoot anyone using a weapon!"


	20. It Takes A Village Or Rich Greedy Neighbors

Everything on the street had been cheery if cold. All the set ups, all the decorations for the next day's festival were tastefully set about the estates of Starks, Lannisters and Baratheons. Only the Bolton Estate still did not look festival like, if anything adding candles, flowers and large pink wreaths everywhere made it look like a funeral home. In the dark it was all lit by antique yellow lamps and it all looked quite stately. Now with the flashing red lights, it all looked like the scene of a slasher film.

Tommen and Bran were in the dark, huddled together, speaking in hushed tones. Their eyes were round with shock and horror, panting, hearts pounding. The red lights were pulsing in from half shut curtains and the only other light was the screen in front of them. Behind them the door gently swung open and a figure stepped into the room. Lights flickering off the pale stern face, red lights, creating a garish vision of a vengeful ghost. A small creak and both boys swung around and screamed at the top of their lungs, nearly filling their underwear.

"WHAT THE FUCK, MOM? YOU ALMOST KILLED US! WE ALMOST DIED OF HEART ATTACKS!"

Bran was holding his chest and laying on the rug as Tommen scrambled up to turn on the lights. Cat glared at her son and snapped at them.

"Turn that bloody filthy thing off right now. You wouldn't have been scared if you weren't watching that. And that language just cost you all your gaming systems for one week. Tommen, I am very sorry, but I need to tell you something. Your father has had an accident, he fell down the stairs and broke his neck. We are very sorry for your loss and understand if you wish to go back home to your mother tonight. I believe that your grandfather is with her now."

"I'd rather stay here. Mother will be all dramatic over it. As if we weren't aware she has been trying to kill him for years now. He wasn't worth crying over alive, I won't do it now that he is dead. Rather avoid the drama while I can."

Cat had no idea how to respond, so she just left the room. It had to be shock, he will feel it later then she will take him to his mother. Surely, that can't be how he really feels about his own father? True, Robert was a detestable abusive prick but at least one of his family must have enjoyed a bond with the man? She decided not to make the same mistake twice and knocked on the door before entering Rickon's room.

"For the love of...I would almost rather find the two of you making out then whatever this is!"

Cat knew that wasn't the best way to start this discussion,but it really was just too much this time. All day she had put up with Harry Potter characters, The Hobbit, Dr. Who and Star Wars. When they spoke in tongues, she ignored it, when they cast spells around her, she pretended they didn't exist. When they spent forty minutes trying to use the Force to get her to give them fifty dollars, Cat smiled and stoically carried on. Already irritated by the Bran's attitude and Tommen's lack of emotion, Cat wasn't prepared to see a zombie Marcella trying to eat her son who was dressed as a sheriff.

"I don't care where the dead are walking to, shut up! Please! Now. Marcella, dear...."

A moment later Cat was downstairs slugging down a bottle of wine as Ned got on his jacket.

"What the hell are you doing? Robert is dead next door and most of our children aren't answering calls, no one knows where anyone is. And you choose this time to get drunk? You should be with those children or with Cersei, or have appearances suddenly stopped mattering to you? Do you know both our daughters are missing? So are Robb and Jon. Does any of this matter to you?"

Cat took another swig then laughed dryly.

"It matters. I can't tell you how much it matters. I told those two little shits about their father's death. They didn't care, except to say that they want to avoid going home. To avoid the drama there. How can they have hated each other that much? Would they feel like this if it were Cersei that died?"

Ned sorted and took the bottle away from her.

"And you think if it were you or I, our children would really be that broken up? Ha. We have ripped Robb's heart out, we sold Sansa to someone she despises, Arya is living with killers rather than be near us. I have allowed you to nearly destroy Jon. Bran lives in a world of games to escape us and Rickon prefers living in fantasy to being anywhere near our reality. Our kids would pretend to cry, the same as these ones will at their father's services. Now clean yourself up and call those pansies, Petyr and Varys. You know the social shit...do it. Cersei won't know the customs and Tywin will want whatever is the best. Get to it."

Ned gave a small shove and Cat hissed at him like her namesake as she caught her balance.

"And where the fuck are you going at this hour? Going to hunt down our children? I can save you the trouble. They are all at the Wildling. I overheard Arya and Sandor talking earlier this evening. They were going to follow them and force Sansa and Joff back home. I guess they weren't successful. Let them all have their party tonight...what are they needed for? They don't care about a man's death. We don't need extra patrols. Robert either tripped and died or Cersei killed him as her children think. Either way, it wasn't really a murder we need to investigate. We are in no danger from this except socially. And if anything, it just makes the woman look tragically attractive to the media. Power didn't really belong to Robert. It belongs to Tywin."

Ned leaned against the wall and stared at his wife with hard eyes.

"You overheard Arya and Sandor talking? You mean, you were stalking her again...right? Something that even fucking Gregor has made a mild complaint to me of. And I asked you to knock if off, didn't I? Why are you doing this? You don't even like the girl, never have! Why are you suddenly obsessed with her now? Because she was the first child to actually defy you and leave? She was the first one to make sure you didn't get the last word in, that last punishment in. It's all over you face, you vindictive bitch. I have enough stalking issues to deal with concerning Robb, I don't need you to add yourself to the fucking list! Leave Arya alone, she isn't yours to worry about anymore."

"Go fuck yourself, Ned. I'll make the phone calls and why don't you take your jacket off. At your age, every young person in that bar will just laugh at the pitiful sight of you trying to force your children out of it."

Ned grabbed her as she went by, his hand was raised and she flinched but it didn't come down. "Wait...both kids think their father was killed by Cersei? Did they say how? Did it seem like just a comment or the truth?"

It took Cat a moment to recover but a quick shake of Ned's fist in her hair helped her focus.

"Yes, it was both of them. And they each were sure of it. Tommen just said he expected his mother to kill Robert, that they all knew she was trying to for years. Marcella said almost the exact same thing."

For a second neither of them moved. Their eyes clashed together and then they both gave cold small smiles as Ned released his wife's hair and put down his other hand. Ned began to fix his wife's hair, trying to recreate the bun, after years of being the one to yank them out, he is an expert at putting it back together fast. Cat fixed her clothing and Ned's, already having forgiven the event, ready for the next one. Ned put the bottle of wine away and gently caressed Cat's cheek.

"Why don't you go make some hot chocolate? I think that it is our duty to comfort and talk with the children. They have just lost their father and are vulnerable...they need our attention. I shall bring them into my study, come along with the chocolate when it's ready. Oh and I think you know the special recipe we should use for the drink, right? Those social calls can wait until after we have helped the children."

Cat nodded then helped Ned take off his jacket before she went to make some comforting drinks. She made a quick stop to her favorite little cabinet in her bathroom and took out two very tiny pills. Her hot chocolate was homemade with real high quality cocoa, vanilla, a drop of peppermint so that the brief bitterness of the pills is hidden well. Ned managed to hook both squirming Baratheons and half drag them into his study. They protested the need for comfort and discussion the whole way to no avail. It was annoyance that turned to disquiet when Cat locked the door behind her as she entered.

Cersei had been dramatic but not overly so. Not yet. She was still in true shock and hiding an exhilarated crazed laugh that longed to burst out of her slender throat. Tywin and Gregor were not in the least moved by her tears and silent stares into nothing. The only ones that noticed were the ones that mattered, the ones she wanted to see her that way. Bravely, holding a black bathrobe over her nightgown, wearing diamond crusted slippers, her long blonde hair in a thick braid over one shoulder, her tears fell down her pale beautiful features. Paramedics, detectives, EMT's all took note of it and it was spread later. The lovely rich grief stricken widow. Of course, Roose was there speaking with the detectives along with her father. Gregor stayed close to Cersei and loomed over those wishing to speak to her.

After the body was gone, the medical and police were all gone, Roose assured them it was considered an accident and over with. Tywin looked at Gregor and then at Roose.

"Ned couldn't reach his sons or daughters earlier. Have all of the children taken the night off? As well as the workers? Ramsay's boys and Gregor's boys, along with the Stark children and my grandson? I do not believe this death shifts anything and we are all aware it was not an murder. However, I am concerned that if it was an emergency, that none of our youth can be reached within a timely fashion. I want the two of you to locate them all. Anyone who was not supposed to be off tonight, I expect disciplined. Everyone who didn't answer a call from one of you shall be dealt with as well. I leave it to the two of you to deal with immediately."

Both left and Roose couldn't have been more insulted to be put in a equal position to Gregor. As for Gregor, he was a simmering pot ready to boil over. He has never had this much trouble with his boys before they came North. It only took him moments to figure out they went to the one bar he told them to avoid. To not go fucking around in until they were better accepted. And he is going to murder his brother for letting Joff and Sansa go into that powder keg. And Gregor is pretty sure that little brat will be with Sandor, which means he can add bringing a minor into a bar on top of the list he is going to hurt his brother for. Roose and Gregor took the same car, Locke driving them to the Wildling bar to collect the wayward children.

 


	21. A Long Hard Fall

The only sounds were the clicking of clocks after Roose and Gregor left. One word, one cold command was the next thing to strike in the air.

"Room."

Cersei shuddered and seemed to shrink. The middle aged southern mean queen seemed to melt into a young scared girl. Without a word, Cersei turned and went upstairs towards her room. It always felt the same, since the first time until this latest one. It never got easier or less painful, less traumatic. That one word has been haunting Cersei's sanity since she can remember.

If there was ever a reason that Cersei had to tell the truth of such things, if ever she were asked, did your father molest you? The answer would firmly be no. She never saw it that way. It was only ever done when Cersei angered her father. He didn't get drunk and do it, buy her presents then do it. Tywin never tried to make a bond with her or do it for any type of desire really. At least not to her eyes. Tywin only commanded her to her room and did this as a punishment.

Not for small things, those would be dealt with in public or private depending on where Tywin felt like it. He once gave Cersei a brutal bare ass spanking with his belt at her own birthday party. It was her tenth birthday party and Cersei was a little bored with the usual things. A petting zoo and a live circus were boring and old hat. So she and some friends played some tricks of their own. Two classmates were nearly mauled when Cersie forced them into the lion cage. The only thing that saved their lives was that the poor creature was not only ancient but declawed and had all his teeth removed years ago.

No, the room command was only used for things Tywin considered extreme defiance. Cersei was mentally trying to tally them up as she climbed the stairs, tears streaming. The first time she remembers it happening it was for wetting her pants. Her father had dragged them to a function and no one would let her leave for the bathroom.

At four she didn't have much control yet and Cersei had been drinking juice all morning long. Her nanny was too busy flirting with some serving man to notice her charge squirming. When it happened, Tywin simply looked at the nanny who took Cersei away at a near run. That night Cersei was forced to watch as Tywin had Gregor beat the nanny to death. Then as she stared at the dead broken girl, Tywin said it for the first time.

"Room."

She didn't speak, she just went upstairs as she does every time. When Tywin first discovered Cersei experimenting with Jaime. Every time he caught her with Jaime, in fact. Each time she gave birth to another golden haired child. When she couldn't control Robert or herself and they lost their children to Tywin. That was the first thing that happened when Tywin had allowed the couple back in their home. 

It was in fact the only time Robert ever felt anything like tenderness for his wife. He would hold her afterwards, feed her and bathe her for however long it took her to recover. Usually Cersei was fine in a day or two but she greedily enjoyed having Robert's small devotions. When she was young, it was Tyrion that was there during her recoveries.

This time when it was over, Cersei would have no one. Even if the children had come home, who could she turn to? Cersei tried not to make any sounds as she went into her bedroom and removed her clothing. She stood in the center of the room, arms at her sides, legs braced open, waiting, staring at the door. This was only the start, but even the beginning of something Tywin has to build dread.

She has to stand and wait, listening for Tywin's steps, waiting for him to come in like a nightmare. If she hid, tried to fight or barricade the door, as she tried a few times in her teen years, it only makes it twice as bad. Tywin simply has the door removed, or has Gregor track her down or force her to comply. He always makes her submit in the end.  So she stands and waits.

If only she had turned even slightly around, things might have gone differently.

Or if instead of drugging and interrogating two teens in a locked room, the Stark parents had been watching their own children.

But no one turned around, no one unlocked a door. So no one noticed Rickon or Bran go downstairs. No one saw Rickon eat a bucket of ice cream or saw Bran leave the house. He had only his phone on him, wanting to see if he could catch a glimpse of either Robert's dead body or Cersei's naked one.

The house was mostly dark, dashing Bran's hopes that Robert's body was around anymore. He walked around the house and saw that Cersei's light was on. Bran hesitated, he could go home and watch like usual through his telescope. But his parents were being creepy again, creepier than usual. He wasn't stupid, nothing good was happening to his new friends, soon to be in laws. He didn't want to be there wondering if they were being hurt.

Climbing trees, trying to balance on Cersei's little alcove before her window, was a good distraction. A better one happened when he saw Tywin enter his naked daughter's room. Bran wasn't barely aware when he started jacking off. It was before the leather studded paddle but after Cersei had nearly drowned in a face-full of her father's seed. The undoing was the tiny sound Bran made when he came and splattered against his hand and the window-casing.

Tywin had just delivered his last blood speckled blow to his bad girl's ass and was about to get a cane for her thighs. That is when he saw the little nasty pervert in the window. It is not often that Tywin gives in to baser urges, much less to an impulsive act. However, disciplining his daughter has stirred his blood up, always does. So he was at the window, whipping it open and shoving the boy before a thought formulated. Before Cersei even cried out in horror, clutching a robe and running to see if the boy was dead.


	22. Here Comes The Boom

"Where the FUCK have you taken me to?"

Tyrion stared blearily out the Uber car window.

"What the fuck is a Wildling?"

The bored Uber driver sighed loudly.

"Sir, no offense but this is the fifth bar you have had me drive you to and say no to. You were my last pick up tonight, have some mercy, I'm tired. I have been pulling extra shifts at the hospital, I only do this for a little extra cash. Please, just pick a location, have mercy."

"I am not so drunk that I cannot recall most of the evening. The first two places you chose are places frequented by those who would know my father or sister by now. The other three were places that I would get tossed into a dumpster by some ruffians wanting to try their hand at a new sport, like dwarf tossing. What the fuck is your name again? Peter, Paul, Polio...Polliv..no I know that isn't right..."

"Podrick! Podrick! For the tenth time, Sir! Podrick!"

"Right. Podrick. Now I have heard you bitch and complain for hours about how much you despise your job. And this extra job. You are either a miserable person or you are in the wrong job. Shut the damned car off and come inside with me. We shall drink and discuss your problems. And that way if this place is too rough, at least I know who will be in the hospital next to me!"

Podrick turned around to finally just tell the obnoxious if not mostly amusing man to fuck off when Tyrion stuck five hundred dollars into his face. He took the money, shut the car off and got out, swearing to himself the whole time. No way was he going to be on time in the morning. Dr. Pycelle is going to fire him this time for sure. It was too late now and he followed Tyrion towards the bar. They had almost made it beyond the door before a body went flying past them. 

"Nope."

Podrick turned and started to head back to the car but Tyrion yelled after him.

"Oh, you pussy! Where is your sense of adventure gone? And you either come inside with me or give me my five hundred back!"

"Why can't we get a drink another place then? I made a mistake coming here, I had no idea it was like this. Let's go somewhere else and drink, alright?"

Tyrion went to answer but he had caught sight of something distressing or rather he heard something distressing inside the bar.

"I'd really like to..but now this isn't an option. My fucking nephew's nasally voice is piercing through me. As much as I hate the sick fuck, my sister would castrate me if I let her little Boo Boo get hurt if I could have stopped it. So now for that money, you can help me drag him out of here, or at least help me make my way to him in there."

Podrick stared at Tyrion in horror.

"I am an orderly, not a fucking bouncer, or wrestler or killer or your average bar fighter!"

"Then give me back my five hundred dollars. Yeah, that is what I thought. Just help me through the worst of it. Get me to that weaselly blond boy that you hear screaming like a little girl in the corner! Yes, over there. Oh look at that. He was dumb enough to even bring his little bride to be with him, so she can watch him die. And then probably get hurt herself. Stupid."

"All you had to do was shut your fucking mouth and we would be in this situation now, would we? Holy shit, I think he just pissed his pants, yeah, he pissed himself!"

Raff alone was really laughing at the gasping boy with the wet crotch that he was holding up against the wall with one fist. His fist was wrapped tightly around the boy's throat. Joff couldn't resist when Raff headed for him, he kept insulting him, even after Raff threatened to remove his tongue for him. No one seemed more surprised then off himself when Raff started to strangle him.

Damon had been going to break Raff into little pieces but as he had reached for him, a pool stick got him in the back, breaking in half. So he had turned and proceeded to see if he could put that cue up the Tickler's ass. Alyn and Dusten seemed to grin at each other and sent the darts into each other as opposed to the dart board. When they ran out of darts they switched to fists.

Ramsay and Robb both grabbed onto Reek as he fled by and that sent Ramsay into a rage. He shoved his pet towards a table with orders to stay under it then he threw himself at Robb. It was the Tickler that went flying over Tyrion's head out the door. Damon had been about to stomp right over Tyrion, not even seeing that he was about to commit murder. Podrick reacted without much thought by grabbing the nearest pitcher and throwing it at Damon's head. Just as Tyrion went to throw himself sideways, the pitcher crashed against the giant man's shoulder. He turned growling and Podrick pointed to Tyrion.

"You almost crushed him!"

This wasn't sufficient for Damon and he began to chase after Podrick who muttered an "oh fuck" and flew into the crowd. Damon crashed after him and Tyrion managed to fly through the brief empty space left behind the big man. He climbed onto the booth seat where Sansa and Jeyne were shoved when Raff attacked Joff. Glaring at Sansa disapprovingly, he stood on the seat and looked at Raff who was close enough to touch.

"You are one of the Mountain's boys, aren't you? Who is employed by the grandfather of the boy you are choking to death? And how do you think you will be repaid for that? Gregor doesn't strike me as the forgive and forget type. Then again, if you were the one that kept Joff safe by making him simply leave...that you would probably be rewarded for. Ask yourself, is this irritating little shit worth the wrath that would fall upon you? Instead, I could call up Petyr and get you a girl that will let you take out all that aggression another way."

Raff slowly turned his head to stare flatly at Tyrion.

"What fun is that then?"

He let the piss stained boy fall to the ground anyway, then kicked him in the balls hard for good measure. With a sweet smile for Tyrion and the curled up little pansy, Raff reached into the booth and tried to drag Sansa out of it. That is when that fucking slash got in his way again, infuriating him beyond belief. Raff had only meant to scare and humiliate Sansa a little before walking away but that other bitch had to attack him.  The fork went right into his arm and fuck it hurt. He backhanded her and she fell hard into Sansa who was knocked out cold by it. It didn't help that at the last second Raff saw Gregor enter out of the corner of his eye.

Luckily, he wasn't the first one that Gregor was going to be seeing to. As Roose shot once into the air and everyone stopped, one body remained on the floor. Alyn lay still, a dart buried within his eye and Dusten standing over him.


	23. A Lommy, A Bull And A Piggy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> okay, i have to tell you all this ahead of time while I am still laughing about it. most of my stories are influenced by the music i am hearing while i write. i had carefully set certain songs for this chapter...with great care i had thought.  
> To give you a hint, Boom, Welcome To the Jungle, a shitload of GodSmack, Disturbed and Nine Inch Nails. A deliberate fucked up mix to create a fucked up edge to this abomination. Somehow the list got all mixed up and I am not shitting you...as you read the below story...here is what played instead until i managed to fix it.  
> Billie Jean, I Will Survive and then Still Alive by Portal. Then it burst into the musical of American Idiot. Yes. so forgive the rocky beginning to the story until my music and then my meds were adjusted, it staggered a tad...lol I will admit we were in severe danger of an epic dance fight for a minute or two...

Polivar was having a very bad night. The hospital wait wasn't long only because they were afraid of him and Sandor. A shaking doctor stitched him up without asking a single question. Sandor had plenty though and Polivar was ready to murder the fucking upstart when the meds really kicked in. Now his night was wonderful, he was staring out the window as Sandor drove them away from the shitty hospital.

"Hey, where is the little shadow of yours? She was with you earlier, wasn't she? When we left the estate she was with you."

"Don't fucking know. Don't fucking care. Driving back to check on the royal idiots then dumping your ass at home so I can get some fucking sleep."

"You don't know where Arya is? Gregor only allows her off the property with you until further notice, remember? Seems like we should make sure she hasn't broken the rules. She won't learn if we spoil her. We both know she has her phone, what does the GPS tracker say? Where is she?"

"Fuck you. We are getting the brats at the Wildling and going home."

"I'll just text Gregor then and mention that we aren't sure where Arya has gone."

"Fine, you cockingsucking cuntbucket!  GPS says she is at the quarry."

Arya had just finished a third beer and her second joint when she started having visions. Yep, real shitty ones too. Because it looked an awful lot like Sandor and Polivar were heading for her and her friends. Had to be a vision, she prayed it was a vision.

"Holy fuck! Look at the size of that man? That other one looks even meaner somehow. Shit..we need to bug out of here." Hotpie breathed faster as he started to stand up. Lommy was feeling no pain and he pushed his fat buddy back down. "Just some fucking bullies, who gives a shit? I have a gun on me. Besides, I think Arya knows them."

Arya whirled to glare at Lommy then stuck her hand out. "Give it to me now! You can't pull a weapon on these men, they will fucking kill you. That is The Mountain's brother and one of his best men. Just stay silent until they leave. They are probably trying to find me to harass me. I didn't have permission to come here. Just stay sitting and keep your mouths shut."

Gendry snorted as if he would stand up to these men if need be, but his eyes were nervous and full of stoned paranoia. Arya stood up and headed towards the two just mere feet from her friends. Polivar grinned at her, Sandor scowled and Arya tried for a blank face that reached valiantly for sobriety. With a clicking sound of fake sympathetic disapproval, Polivar began to circle the girl.

"Oh dear, oh no...our wayward little recruit has broken so many rules all at once. Let's see...drinking, drugs, going off limit areas, fraternizing with strange boys.." His words were cut of by her laughter which was echoed by the fucked group behind her. "What the fuck are you talking about, Polivar? I mean yeah, I broke the first three..but is this the nineteen fifties or something? I can party with boys, I work and train with boys, right?"

"These are boys that we don't know, that were not approved of."

Arya stared in shock and disbelief at him then over at Sandor. He glared at her and crossed his arms, clearly he is no mood to defend her in anyway. "Fine. Got it. Let's go, take me home and tell me the whole way about what kind of hell to expect for it." She started to walk past them and maybe they might have followed her. Later on, she really wanted to believe that. Then she heard Lommy's fucking mouth, it was just audible.

"Well, there goes Arya for good. Assholes like that never let one of their own around normal folks. They like to pretend they are better just cause they have a shit load of fucking weapons."

Poliver walked over to the three boys and smiled cheerfully. He leaned down and took one of the beers and opened it. After a long swallow he gestured to the three boys. "Hey, I like to party! Just as much as anyone else, but see..the way I party and the way you party are probably not the same. But I'll tell you what, let's find out! Sound good? Great! Sandor, Arya come sit down, let's party with our newfound pals."

Sandor grumbled but he dragged Arya forward, snarling at her the whole way. "Keep your fucking mouth shut no matter what. You caused this, girlie, now you are stuck with the fucking lesson." Arya wanted to at least try to get the gun from Lommy one last time but there was no way to. Sandor shoved her hard onto an empty piece of log then stood directly behind her. He put a beer in her hand and took one for himself. Poliver sat on the log across from the boys, leaned forward and stared intently at the three nervous high school kids.

"So..that fucking mutant over there is Sandor and I am Polivar. What are your names? Come on, you there, the one with the mouth, what's your name?" Lommy looked up full of drunk bravado and sneered, "Lommy?" Poliver grimaced and Sandor snorted, grumbling, "What the fuck is a Lommy?" With a snarl, Lommy replied, "My name." Poliver opened his eyes very wide and slowly shook his head, asking, "Last name? Maybe there is a redemption here." Staring stonily at him, Lommy was already thinking of his gun and it was in his eyes unknowingly. "Just Lommy."

Polivar drank then gestured to Gendry. "Tell me your name, maybe it will be better than a fucking Lommy. Oh, and boy if you put a finger on that gun, you'll regret it. Now, what is your name?" Lommy flushed and put one hand on his beer and the other on his knee. "My name is Gendry Bull." Polivar had been swigging from his bottle, now he was spraying them all with beer as he laughed. "Really? Lommy? And a fucking Bull? Too fucking much, too much." Gendry glared but said nothing and Lommy was staring at Polivar in a way that worried Arya. The bully's eyes went to the third heavy set boy cringing on the log.

"You...look at you! How the fuck did they even get you up here? Fucking roll your ass? Sandor, if we cooked him we'd have enough food to last months! Now he's all red, not just pink...he looks like a piggy, don't he? Alright boy, stop trying to pretend your not crying and just tell me your name." It took two tries before the humiliated scared kid could speak. "Hotpie. No last name." Polivar grinned then wrinkled his nose. "Nah...Hotpie is fucked up and funny...but it doesn't fit you, does it? Piggy. That is perfect, so Piggy you are! Stand up and let me see if you are really as fat as I think you are."

With a sob, Hotpie stood up, shaking. Polivar's eyes were shining like a young boy at Christmas morning as he commanded the boy to twirl around. Terrified and crushed under shame, Hotpie staggered in a circle, crying, silently. Arya got a hand upside her head when she moved to speak, to protest. "Good piggy! Now, I want to see if I can count how many rolls of fat you have...wanna know how many hot dogs I can make out of you. Maybe some bacon too. Lift your shirt up and let the fat fly!" With a whine, his eyes nearly rolling, Hot Pie lifted his shirt with shaking hands. At the sight of the large stomach, Polivar laughed in disgust. "Oh look at that shit! Okay, Piggy, shimmy, lemme see that fat fly!" 

Gendry snarled and started to stand up but Polivar never even looked at him. Polivar was looking only at Lommy, who was holding his rusty gun and pointing it at Polivar. "That is fucking enough! Get out, take Arya if you want to and fucking leave! No more of this shit, you hear me?" Polivar looked like he was frozen. It was creepy and Arya couldn't even detect the man breathing. When he moved again, no one really seemed to clearly see it. One moment the man was stone, the next Lommy's hand was missing the gun and three fingers. The next shot took him in his shoulder and knocked him behind the log. He screamed in the shadows and Polivar chuckled. "Now its a party. Our kind of party."


	24. Fresh Meat

Arya screamed, standing up. "What the fuck are you doing? Don't kill him! Fuck!" Gendry was on his feet along with Hot Pie. As soon as his feet turned to run Sandor was there and his fist sent Gendry over the log, coughing blood and a tooth or two onto the dirt. "Oh come on...I didn't aim for anything vital, everyone calm the fuck down. Wow, are you all party poopers? Huh? Sit your asses down, Bull, why don't you help the Lommy into it's chair? That is better, nice and fucking cozy, aren't we?" Polivar beamed at them all as soon as they were all sitting.

"Now, Lommy, you are going to toss me the rest of your weed. Oh, stop whining and Gendry will wrap your hand for you. Because you are fucking splattering blood all over everything, you know. Kind of gross, buddy boy. Gendry, use your shirt to bind his hand." Polivar started to roll himself a joint then he looked over at Hotpie. He burst out laughing, leaning forward, squinting and sniffing to confirm his suspicions. "Did you piss yourself, boy? Did a widdle piggie see a scawy thing and go to pee pee town?" Polivar laughed and Hotpie tried to cover his wet crotch with his hands.

"You pathetic thing...you dirty piggy. Well? Don't just sit in your cooling piss, boy! Stand the fuck up. Now take off your pants and underwear. Looks like you are going to have to Porky Pig it through this party. Hurry up." Sandor rolled his eyes and drank more. Arya growled low in her throat and kept her eyes only on Polivar. "Stop...stop fucking doing this to him." Gendry nearly moaned out, putting his head in his hands. "Please..no really, I am too..stoned..and drunk for this shit. Just, can we not?" Polivar pointed his gun at Gendry's head. "Shut the fuck up. Don't be so jealous, pookie, I promise you'll be next for my fuckery! Just try to hold on a little longer, honey? Yeah? Good."

"Holy fuck, those underwear can't be real! Looks like you could fucking sail with it..." Polivar watched as Hotpie put his pants and underwear on the dirt folded neatly next to him. "You are amazing, prime Piggy meat. Tell you what, here is the party game! You are going to be our entertainment, Piggy! Oh, lemme see, is there really a little prick under all that fat, Piggy? Oh gods, there is...Sandor, it's like a tiny mushroom that just can't grow under it's conditions. Very sad if it weren't so fucking funny. Okay, the game, yes! So here it is." Polivar took a hit and held it while staring at Hotpie. When he finally released the smoke and spoke, Hotpie jumped.

"The game is to do everything I say to or I am going to slice you, put you on that fire and eat you. And if you try to run at any point, I'm going to put a sharp stick up your ass, fuck you with it till you die. Then have pork on a stick for dinner. Understand, Piggy?" Hotpie sobbed but nodded. "Great! Now first, I don't want to watch little fucking droplets of pee falling from your tiny prick. So go over to the edge of the quarry and I want you to shake it off. Go. Now." Polivar grinned as Hotpie staggered over to the edge of the rocks, trying to cover himself, trying to compose himself somehow. He stared into the darkness at the edge that wanted to suck him in. He was thinking about letting it as he used his hand to shake his limp dick into the quarry. Of course there wasn't anything to really shake off anymore.  

"Aww, come on...be entertaining! Really give a good shake, get your hips into it, Piggy! I wanna see that fat ass of yours shimmy! Shake, Piggy!" Harshly, Hotpie bit into his bottom lip until blood poured down his chin. He ached as every piece of him worked into shaking to amuse the sadistic fuck behind him. _I could jump...this is only going to get worse..even if I get out of this..it will always be this way for me._ Then that terrible voice, that terrible man was right behind him. "You aren't thinking of jumping, are you? Sick of being picked on for being so disgusting, I understand. But I know something about you that I bet you don't yet. Let me help you understand it." A boot kicked hard into Hotpie's large left buttock. For one horrible instant, Hotpie was over the ledge, he was staring at death down below and he screamed, urine squirted out of him.

The only thing that kept him from plummeting to his death was the grip Poliver had in Hotpie's hair. "Listen to the squealing of the Piggy! Now..here it is. Death. Do you still want to jump, Piggy?" "NO NO NO PLEASE NO!" Hotpie screamed in terror and Polivar used the boy's hair to yank him back to the dirt. Hotpie lay there shivering and panting, tears and sweat streaming, mixing with snot and drool. Polivar stared at him with amused disgust. "Wipe the fucking boogers off your face, Piggy, you are so fucking gross. Now we all know what else you are, Piggy. You are a coward. You can't even kill yourself to make things better, can you? No...you can't. That is okay, though. I firmly believe, once you know who and what you are, things get easier. I like you, Piggy...so I am going to help you. Now, what is your new name?"

"P..p...piggy." Hotpie muttered, curled on the ground. Cocking a hand to his ear, Polivar leaned towards the boy. "I couldn't hear you. Say it again?" Sitting up, face pale, eyes hollow, Hotpie spoke a bit louder and clearer, keeping his gaze on the dirt. "Piggy." Poliver clapped and cheerfully hooted. Then he leaned down and gave a warm, preschool teacher attitude, batting his eyelashes at the boy. "And..what did we learn that you are? Did our good Piggy listen to his lesson? What are you?"  Hotpie sobbed and heaved then with a hoarse grunt, he answered. "Coward." "Good boy! Yes, we learned our Piggy is a coward. So accept it, you are a coward and you are most defiantly a Piggy!"

"I want you to get on your hand and knees. I want you to crawl around like a real wild little piggy would. Snuffle for truffles, rub your fat skin into the dirt and crawl around oinking. You are going to do that until I tell you to stop. If you get out of my line of vision, I will assume you are trying to run. You know what happens then, don't you? You become my nice pork dinner, right? Come on, be a good piggy for me!" Hotpie struggled to crawl and he snuffled into the dirt, mixing with his tears and snot to make a unique grime upon his face. Satisfied, Polivar sat back down and continued to smoke the joint. "I don't hear any oinking, Piggy!"  The boy let out a few humiliated snorting sounds as he lumbered about on his hands and knees.

Lommy was in pain and he no longer cared about anything but getting to the hospital. Getting his shit fixed up and his mind fucked up to escape the pain and this situation. "Man...I am dying here...just let us call an ambulance for me? Or let me go and walk to get a fucking ride there! Come on, please, I'm gonna bleed out and it fucking hurts so bad!" Gendry tried to get Lommy to stop whining but nothing was working. Polivar smiled. "Give Sandor your cell phones and wallets, Gendry. Now." He watched the boy get the items, even in Hotpie's pissed stained clothing. He handed the jumble to Sandor and Gendry shot a pleading look at Arya. She shot a look back of "What the fuck do you think I can do?" Yet when Gendry sat back down, Arya gave it a shot.

"Look, you had your fun. I get the point, no more friends without permission, can we go? Please?" Arya ducked and Sandor's large hand only caught her hair. Polivar looked at Arya and his amusement seemed to slowly melt off his face. He took out his cell phone and then frowned at it. "Huh...no service here..." He stood up then swooped down and forced Lommy into his grip. "Let's get you an ambulance. Let's see if we can find reception..." Polivar half carried the wounded boy to the edge of the quarry. Polivar looked at his phone which he was waving in the air. "Hey, found it! Three bars. Yes!" He smacked Lommy in the back so hard the boy teetered on the edge. With a grin, Polivar gave another slap to the boy's back and then he was gone. They heard his screams and then a horrible squelching thud.

"Whoops."


	25. When Eating Shit, Best To Do It Fast

Gregor and Roose scanned every face, every bruise, every shamed eye that refused to meet theirs. Very few dared to meet their eyes, but Tyrion had no problem with it at all. "Glad to see another adult trying to figure out where Joff and Sansa were. When I got here, it was a full out brawl with these two right in the center of it!" Roose nodded slightly and Gregor simply grunted, dismissing the little man. "Where is Polivar?" Gregor asked, glaring at his men. "That cunt Kyra tried to rip his cock off in a fight! He got Sandor to take him to the hospital, I think." Dusten muttered.

Roose looked up sharply, directly at his son and Robb. "And where is Jon? Or Ygritte? And why was Sansa being threatened directly in front of you? Why was Joff being strangled and you can lay Alyn's death at your own doors, you know that, correct? So busy fighting with each other over that creature. You both disgust me and Robb, I can assure you that your father will feel the same about all of this."

Gregor began to take different accounting of what happened. Then he and Roose moved slightly over but Tyrion was determined and squirmed between the two of them. "Excuse me? I am taking my nephew and the girl home since you seem to not care who is standing here." Tyrion was not expecting Gregor to lean down into his face with the face on an aggressive wrestler.

"No one leaves here until we get this shit all sorted out. Go sit with the little royalty." Gregor rumbled and Tyrion was damn near killed by Gregor's breath. "For fuck's sake, Gregor! You have excellent insurance, go see a dentist about your gingivitis! It can lead to bad things you know. Or at the very least maybe dabble in trying mints or mouth wash?"

Roose smoothly got in the way and began to lead Tyrion back towards the couple that are now standing together, shamed and silent. Next to them was a very rattled Podrick, who kept sending nervous glances to Damon who would growl back,s howling his teeth. They looked big and sharp to Podrick.

"Gregor and I are concerned about the death, about our men out of control, those things do not concern you. We are not going to allow anything to happen to Joff or Sansa. However, we do believe they need the example of what happens when order are not obeyed. According to the stories you heard with your own ears, that Sansa and Joff set off that whole rumble. This is to keep them safe as well, Tyrion. Now please sit, thank you." Joff scoffed and Sansa smirked as Tyrion frowned and sat down. He tapped his fingers on the table and then leaned his head over to say casually, "Oh, Joff, your father died tonight. Just wanted to let you know." "WHAT?" But Sansa shushed him harshly, this was no time to be noticed.

Roose and Gregor were watched by every eye, no one moved or spoke. No one could hear hear anything but whispers and growls but they could see the strange act of two predators tallying up a battle for the victor. First Gregor began to back Roose up with his chest then Roose darted so he could begin to circle Gregor slowly both still speaking the whole time. This happened a few times and Tyrion openly yawned then stood up, stretching. He stood up on the table and began to slow clap until both men stopped to stare at him with death in their eyes.

"Truly, truly a lovely dance fight if a bit slow. I give it a seven because it was getting repetitive. There was a death tonight both here and at home, can we finish this up?" Tyrion asked wryly. Robb and Ramsay both stared at Roose. "Who died at home?" It was in unison and both shuddered at it.  So did Podrick who was trying to hide in the booth next to Jeyne. They sat across from Sansa and Joff who were staring up at Tyrion on the table.

"Robert Baratheon fell down his stairway and broke his neck. We were trying to call everyone home but no one answered their phones. From this moment onward, all phones are answered when you recieve a call from anyone at your home base. Is that understood? A night off means you have time off unless you are needed. At all times." Roose stared at every person as he spoke. His voice was soft and yet somehow went around the room. It was somehow like having the creepy man you were always scared of as a kid suddenly speak into your ear. Some in the room were more affected by that than others.

"Now, let us get to responsibility and discipline for this mess here tonight." Roose looked at Gregor with a pleasant smirk and an arched eye brow. "We have a death that must be paid for. Alyn was valuable to us." Gregor snarled and then pointed at Dusten. "Did you kill him?" Dusten nodded into bothering to try and explain the bizarre accident. Roose looked at him disdainfully. "Why? I am sure the orders were given clearly during this not to kill each other? Not to use weapons?"

Dusten nodded and replied. "It was given. I was fighting with Alyn and we got hold of some darts. We were only poking and punching but then that boy there," Dusten pointed to Podrick. "He ran through me and then I had flailed to get my balance, but couldn't. The dart flew out of my hand, it was in his eye. Then Podrick ran the other way from Damon and I fell into Alyn's back. His head hit the floor and it went in...I am sorry he's dead. He had some good jokes.

Gregor looked at Roose with a nasty cheerfulness and declared it was an accident. Roose nodded, then locked eyes with Gregor. "True...it was an accident. That doesn't change the fact that he was holding a dart in his hand, which is a weapon, correct?" Gregor glared back and snarled, "He said that your boy had a dart too. So they both broke the rule, want to see them both whipped for it?"

Roose smirked. "Who here saw Alyn with the dart before Dusten had his? Or did Skinner have no choice to use it in defense of Dusten?" With a look of victory at Gregor, Roose listened to the bartender, every North voice and even Joff chimed in, angry with the Mountains men for his shabby treatment. They all yelled that Dusten had the weapon first. That Skinner had to defend himself.

Gregor's face darkened and he shot all his men a glare that promised retribution for this shameful behavior. "Very well. He is your men's to punish for taking a life they needed. However, I need him able to fight and I am well aware of your forms of torture. You may not remove any vital pieces, limbs, not even a finger or a toe." Ramsay scowled and Roose sighed. "I guess we could have Damon make him dance, but it doesn't seem very effective nor worth a life." He commented lightly.

Dusten stood still as Gregor ripped his shirt off. Fuck, that was a t shirt he spent three years trying to get online. He was more concerned with Gregor's anger than anything else. Whatever the Boltons would come up with, he can handle it, if he can take what Gregor dishes out, this will be child's play.

"Flay one of his nipples off. It will hurt but it won't affect his work or overall health. Seems reasonable to me, think of how much it will hurt while healing?" Dusten felt surreal as he heard Gregor casually offering up his nipples to Northern knife. Was this really fucking happening? How drunk was he? Maybe it's the LSD he took earlier from Myranda kicking in? He might really be playing pool, asleep or having sex and thinking this.

Ramsay grinned and came forward with his skinning blade. "Don't worry, father. I can find the perfect pound of flesh to take for Alyn. I can promise it will not affect his work or overall health provided he watches the wound for infections." Ramsay leaned close to Dusten and let the light glitter on the sharp steel.

"This is called the Gerber Moment. I don't know why they named it that, it makes me think of skinning a baby. You will need to lift your arm very high for me, please. And I want you to know, I plan on making sure this goes slowly and carefully. I want you to really feel this for a good long time after." Dusten stared at Ramsay and slowly raised him arm up. "Go for it, asshole." After one of Gregor's rectal infusion punishments, this will be nothing.

Two minutes later, Dusten was being held tightly by Damon and Skinner as he squirmed, sobbed and screamed under Ramsay's knife. Gregor stared down in disgust at the shameful sight. Ramsay expertly removed the skin of Dusten's armpit. "Good news, is...you don't need to buy as much deodorant now! Only need enough for one arm. Bad new is, you'll still sweat through this exposed skin and muscles and nerves. It will hurt like you won't believe!" Ramsay chuckled and ripped the flap off in one gristly movement. The sound made Joff and Podrick both vomit, causing Sansa and Jeyne to scramble onto the table with Tyrion.

Gregor glared then at Roose. "Done. Payment in full. Now our turn, right? So..?" Roose looked like he was swallowing a lump of shit as he addressed his own people. "Polivar was injured due to Kyra's actions. Also, Kyra's attack caused everyone's nerves to tighten, to spark off a fight. Ramsay, you will get Ben and his dogs, Damon with his whip and Skinner with his own blades...you will hunt Kyra, whip, rape, torture and flay her living. The dogs may eat the remains." Myranda and Ros gasped and looked both fearful and resentful. But they dared not speak, not when flaying and hunts are on the table for those that have offended.

Robb shook his head. "No. That is going too far. You can't take her life, she didn't take anyone's life! She didn't try to kill Polivar! She was putting an asshole in his place, that was all! She went home, just let her be. I'll take a punishment for her. Let one of the Mountain men hurt me in her place."

Roose stepped forward and said softly, "How very valiant of you. And it will not work. It can be Kyra, or it can be Kyra, Myranda and Ros. Your choice boy..since you wanted choices." Ramsay seethed but he nudged Robb. "We don't have a fucking choice, asshole. Don't worry, as always I'll take care of the dirty work. That way you can just go home and keep those pretty hands of yours clean." Robb tried to fumble out his phone. "I'll call my father!"

Gregor took the phone and nearly crushed two of Robb's fingers doing it. "There is no calling daddy for help, son. You wanted to come out and play with the big boys. Well, this is it..how is it working for you? Kyra is to be dragged screaming from wherever she has gone and hunted to death. Understand me, boys? And since this is your partner," Gregor poked a thick finger into Robb's face. "You will participate. You will run with them and watch that bitch die. Lessons hurt. Deal with it or get the fuck out of the pack, young wolf."

Roose has taken another bite of shit and was about to share it out. "We have one more thing to address. Joff did get strangled. Every person in this room with the exception of the woman perhaps..should have been able to keep this couple safe. Instead, one of his very own attacked him. This cannot be unanswered. However..."

Roose had a little trouble swallowing such a large chunk of shit and Gregor was clearly enjoying it. The giant looked like he might whip out his cock and masturbate with delight. "It might have been Raff that tried to choke Joff..but according to what we were told...Jeyne had harassed Raff to a point where he was too angry to think things through. So Jeyne is the one to blame."

 


	26. The Bull Vs. El Asshole

Polivar looked at the stunned group as if they were crazy. "What? It was my bad, I accept that. I don't know my own strength sometimes...it's a problem I have long endured. Mommy and Daddy tried to help me..therapy...extra loving touches..." He tried to look traumatized as he walked back to his seat. As he sat down he sang out softly, "I don't hear any piggies..."

Hotpie couldn't stop his sobbing but he started to stumble about, snuffling again and snorting. "That's much better...the sounds of animals soothes the soul, you know. And then later they also taste delicious. But it's true..animal sounds and actions can soothe a person. I think I read that on a Salada teabag or something." Polivar got another beer and started to chug it.

Gendry stared at Polivar in horror and outrage. "You just fucking killed him for no reason! Why did you do that? He was unarmed, he couldn't hurt you!" Arya moaned and shook her head, covering her face with her hands. She understood now, if she dares to intervene in any way, Polivar will do something worse than what he was already intending. All she could do was pray that either Polivar got bored or that Gendry would shut up and just take the shit thrown at him.

Polivar gave Gendry a wide maniacal grin. "Why? A few reasons actually. He was fucking annoying...pulling a rusty gun on me, rude then whiny and demanding. Also, that lil bitch-brat over there wanted to open her fucking mouth. She is in training, a slow learner but she is getting the point now, aren't you, girl?" Arya looked up at Polivar and nodded. "Yes. It won't happen again. I swear it." She kept her face as blank as she could, her eyes as repentant as she could.

"Nah...you are trying to understand and you are almost there. At least you are getting one thing. We don't mouth off or interrupt Polivar, do we, little Princess?" Arya shook her head. "No, I won't ever interrupt or mouth off to you again." He searched her eyes and face, he could see the anger still brewing underneath her skin. Good, let it really twist because the fun wasn't over yet and he grinned. "Good girl. Have another beer, you too, Sandor. Its a party, after all." He took a long hit then handed the joint to Sandor. "Here, you and the brat."

Grimacing at the smell, Sandor reluctantly took a hit then passed it to Arya. "Where the fuck did they buy that shit? Worse fucking shit I've ever smelled. I mean weed stinks but that is fucking rancid." Polivar looked at Gendry and said, "Let's play with the bull. I know! Make your fingers into horns, shake your head and snort while stamping your feet. Just like a real bull. Come on, do it for Uncle Polivar, won't you? Sweetness? Honeybunches of Bull oats? Do bulls eat oats and why aren't you moving, handsome?"

Gendry kept shaking his head. "No. I won't be like Hotpie. I'm not going to act like an animal for you." Bursting out laughing, Polivar slapped his knees. He calmed and pointed at the boy on his hands and knees burrowing into the dirt. "Lemme tell you something, Bull boy..that piggy is doing something very special. Do you know what that is? That piggy is surviving. Cowardly perhaps, but it's in a piggy's nature. They submit in hopes to survive. Now bulls are fucking stupid and look what happens to them. Last chance, Bull."

A bullet struck Gendry's left foot and he screamed, falling to his knee, then Poliver shot his other foot. "I did warn you to do what I said. Now make the bull horns and snort, I guess shuffling and stamping feet is out." Hotpie had squealed when the gun went off and had curled into a ball. "Piggy, that squeal was lovely, truly a thing of beauty. Now get moving." He started his painful endless crawling and snuffling again without a single hesitation or protest.

Gendry sobbed out in pain then grimly stared at Polivar. "I can't. I won't." Polivar chuckled and shook his head.He began to pace in front of Gendry, his hands behind his back, cradling the gun. "See, now here is a big difference between you and Piggy. Besides that he is rolls of fat and you are the perfect farm fed boy. The difference is how badly each want to survive. See, Piggy there, that little fat fuck is committed. Hell, if I asked him to suck my cock in order to live, he'd be snuffling over here in a heartbeat. For fucks sake, Piggy keep moving, you desperate slobbering piece of shit! You come near my cock without invitation you'll lose your own little prick to my knife!"

Polivar threw a stick hard at Hotpie, who squealed and moved faster, trying to get out of striking range. Sandor eyed the shameful sight then advised softly, "I wouldn't go further away, or he'll fucking kill you." Hotpie forced himself to turn so he was going in a circle, trying not to go anywhere near the quarry edge or Polivar. But Polivar's eyes were only on Gendry now. "So..as I was saying, you aren't as much a survivor, you are just too stubborn but not strong enough to live through me. Are you sure you don't want to just try it for me? It really will be much less painful if you do. Go on, I'm feeling really kind right now, be a bull for me."

Gendry had tears running down his face and his lips trembled but he shook his head. Arya saw that Gendry felt he was standing up to Polivar somehow and she wanted to scream at him. She put her fist into her mouth and bit down, waiting for a bullet to go between Gendry's eyes. "No, huh? That is alright, everyone has their own nature, can't be changed. I understand. Lemme show you something, just a quick lesson in how some will do anything to survive. Maybe it will change your nature." Polivar smiled brightly at Gendry as he holstered his gun. Then he kicked Gendry hard in the face to knock him down.

Hard enough to stun but not enough for Gendry to be too dazed. Polivar whipped out a knife and proceeded to hack a small chunk of flesh off Gendry's stomach. The boy screamed and tried to get away, but it was done fast and messily. Polivar stood up with his prize and threw it on a rock in the fire. "We'll just let that cook some." Arya was on her feet but she came no closer and said nothing at all. Her stomach had started to cramp and bile surged into her throat. "Oh. Sweet. Fucking. Biscuits. Is our little brat going to puke? So much for tough."

Sandor groaned and Polivar started to walk over to stand before the nearly green girl. "Are you? Are you going to throw up? It will land on me if you do, bitch. What do you think I would do to you for that? Go on, recruit, puke on me and see how that works for you. I fucking dare you." Arya tried hard to swallow it down, not to lower her eyes from Polivar's and tears were starting to pour along with sweat. Sandor grumbled out, "Fucking hypocrite. I remember when you puked a few times." Arya managed to swallow her gorge down and trembling, she stood as calm as she could before Polivar. "Shut the fuck up, Sandor." Polivar glared at the man, then he walked back to the fire.

He pulled the now half raw, half burnt piece of flesh out of the fire with a stick. "Now Gendry, stop wailing and pay attention or we'll have to repeat the lesson." Polivar dropped the chunk onto the ground. "Piggy, come here. Got a snack since you can't seem to snuffle out any fucking truffles. Take a bite." Hotpie crawled before the meat but he started to sob and plead, staring at the disgusting flesh. "Please, don't make me...please don't make me do it." Polivar pointed the knife at Hotpie. "Do you want to be on the menu instead?" With a cry of horror and desperation, Hotpie lurched forward and bit into the chunk.

Almost heaving, he tore a small bit off and chewed it. "Chew and swallow it, Piggy." Sandor's hand covered Arya's mouth and he whispered into her ear. "Don't you dare throw up now. Hold on and I'll tell you the last time I saw Polivar throw up on the way home." Gendry vomited as he watched. "Looks like you've swallowed it. Open your mouth and let me see, Piggy." The boy looked deathly sick and he was trying to not throw up as he opened his mouth wide. "Good. Don't worry I won't make you eat the rest. Go on and puke over in the bushes then get back to your crawling." 

Gratefully, Hotpie flew to the bushes and heaved into them. Polivar beamed after him as if a proud parent then he turned his happy face onto Gendry. "Now see, that is someone who truly wants to survive at any cost. He ate you, buddy...just to live. If you were on a shipwrecked beach with him, you'd have to kill him before he ate you. Sounds terrible, I know, but see, he is still breathing and you-" The bullet went through Gendry's forehead. "You aren't and I got bored with you. And then there was one." He turned his gaze onto Hotpie as Arya struggled against Sandor's hand. Polivar looked over at her and said, "What? Do you have something to say? Let go of her mouth, the brat wants to speak to me."

Arya saw the mistake that Sandor yet again was saving her from. She instantly shook her head and lowered her eyes. "Are you sure? You seemed to be struggling. Why were you struggling then? Speak! You seemed like you wanted to a minute ago!" Poliver started to walk over and Arya stammered out, "He..he was holding my jaw too tight and it hurt. I wanted Sandor to let go was all." "Are you sure? Sure you weren't going to try and beg me for Piggy's life?" "No. No, I can't interfere with anything my superiors are doing." It damn near killed her to say that but she couldn't help Hotpie any other way then to butter Polivar up. 

"Good brat. That is right. I am your fucking superior and this is a lesson all for you. So stop your fucking squirming and pay attention. Hear me?" Polivar added a ringing slap to her face to make sure that Arya was indeed paying attention. "Yes sir!" That made him brighten up and he strolled away towards Gendry's body. "Oh Piggy, piggy! Come here." With a sob and a growing whine deep in his throat, Hotpie crawled slowly to Polivar. "Please, please don't kill me! Please!" He cried out, hating himself, hating this man so badly. Polivar sneered at the display then he grinned sadistically. 

"You are too pathetic to kill. And too untrustworthy to allow you to go snuffling back to your own pig pen. We need a fucking mascot and someone to take on the chores of the barracks." Polivar threw HotPie's long coat at his naked dirty body. "Put this on and stand up, you piece of cowardly shit. Sandor throw the Bull into the quarry. This party got boring, let's head home."


	27. Unpleasant Things Must Be Done

Cersei knelt before the shattered boy. She had to lean very close to hear him breathing at all. Then the tears came because she knew Daddy was in the window watching. He didn't have to tell her that the boy can't live to say anything. She started to lower herself over his head, pinching his nose tightly, the silk robe covered her other hand which tightly covered his mouth. To anyone coming by it looked like the woman was giving mouth to mouth to a person.

"I am so sorry, Bran. You just should have stayed away. Dream something nice, something pretty, here, here, think of this. Think of me opening that window and letting you in. Think of what I would have let you do to me." Cersei's voice continued in soft detail until the boy was gone. Her tears became less genuine and louder. She was winding up for screaming if no one came by soon.

Cat and Ned stood over the girl's dead body. Ned has already called the ambulance, he spun and grabbed his wife by the hair. "What the fuck are you standing here for? The kids! Fix it now!" Cat ran to get another tablet, muttering the well known fact in this family that an ambulance takes thirty minutes to reach them. "Set the timer!" She yelled and Ned yelled back, "Doing it now! Shut up!" Cat cursed and grabbed her terrified son. She shoved the tablet into a spoonful of ice cream. "Swallow it now. We need it to look like the three of you took drugs together!"

Rickon just stared, frozen at the monster who used to be his cold but not deadly mother. Tommen was nearly hyperventilating nearby. Cat growled they didn't have time for this shit. She threw Rickon against the wall, then smacked Tommen hard and shoved him up against the wall next to her son. "Now..here is why Myrcella is dead. She didn't listen to us. That is why her eyes bulged, why she foamed..it must have been terrible for her. It took quite a long time, didn't it? But you two are going to listen, right? You two don't want to die like that." Both boys nodded and Rickon opened his mouth for the ice cream. "Good boys. Now, here is what you will tell everyone."

Jon and Ygritte were just laying next to each other in Jon's car at the bottom of the quarry. Even the few shots they heard from the quarry had not stopped them from their frantic lovemaking. They had left the bar when things seemed to get too tense. It wasn't like anyone was going to really push things too far. Besides, the shots in the quarry were not unusual, sometimes Ramsay's boys go up there with guns and victims. They had just sat up to dress when Locke shot Ygritte through the window. Her head exploded onto Jon and Locke smirked. "You just broke up. Mr. Bolton would like you to pay attention to your fucking job, please." Locke walked away as Jon screamed and cried, holding his dead girlfriend's body.

Damon shook his head and came forward. "Jeyne is mine, my girl, Mr. Bolton! She didn't do anything but try and defend Sansa! Ask Sansa yourself!" Sansa stood up and tried to go forward but Joff grabbed her wrist to prevent her from leaving him. "Damon's right! I was acting reckless and Jeyne was trying to keep me from getting hurt!" Raff spread his hands into the air. "I was asking for a dance. How is a dance hurting her? And Sansa agreed to it! I didn't force her, I asked her. That little cunt was the only one being aggressive! She stabbed me with a fork, you saw that, didn't you? All I did was go to talk to Sansa one last time and that cunt stabbed me. Only then did I finally get aggressive back." Raff smiled sweetly at them all.

Roose glared at them then he looked at Robb and Ramsay. "It is Jeyne, or it is Reek and Jeyne." "Jeyne." It was said in unison and they shuddered again. Damon came forward and they both grabbed him. "Don't you fucking dare, Damon. I'll kill you myself." Ramsay growled, hating what he was doing to his own best friend. Gregor came forward with a smirk and grabbed the shocked girl by her long black hair. "Let's make the punishment fit the crime, we want to be fair, after all. And there has been enough deaths to satisfy us tonight." Gregor wrapped his fist around the hair and yanked Jeyne out of the booth.

As soon as the Mountain came forward, Joff had grabbed Sansa and put her in front of him as a shield. Tyrion tried to say something as Gregor yanked the girl away but nearly everyone but Sansa and Damon glared at him not to make it worse. Gregor made sure his eyes landed on every single northerner in the room. "Since it's clear that my boys aren't completely welcome here yet, they will need to get their entertainment another way. I bet Raff can tame your feral bitch for you, Damon. She belongs to him now and luckily he always shares with his friends." Gregor shoved Jeyne hard towards Raff. "There boy, now you have a pet of your own just like Ramsay."

Raff laughed as he pulled Jeyne's arms hard behind her back to stop her struggling. "I consider this perfect compensation, thank you. Don't worry, Damon, I'll let you know how her training goes." Jeyne went between cursing at Raff to begging Damon to save her. He got her wrists in one hand and he put his arm around her neck to slowly choke her out. "Loud bitch too and rude. I can fix that, easy peasy." As soon as Jeyne went limp, he tossed her over his shoulder. Gregor gestured to his boys and they started to leave. "I trust that I can leave you with the discipline of the rest?" Roose nodded stiffly.

As soon as Gregor and his men left, Damon sagged into a booth and covered his face. At the same time, Roose slapped Ramsay's face hard enough to make him stumble into Robb. "Now, get Ben and the dogs. You will both hunt Kyra down and be a part of her torture and death. Do you hear me, young man?" Roose stuck his face into Robb's holding the boy's chin as Robb tried to stand up. "There is no calling your father, there is my punishment only. You WILL assist in this so you can see what happens when you don't do your fucking jobs right. Time for you to see what pain you cause to others, perfect Robb Stark. Get the hell up and stop this shameful fucking behavior, the both of you." Roose cuffed their left wrists together with  a chain that gives them only half a foot from each other.

"This way I know you are going to do it. And Ramsay, if Robb only watches, if he does not participate in the rest, I will take it out of both your skins." Ramsay growled. "Thanks a lot, cocksucker." he glared at Robb who stared at Roose like this was all just a bad dream. "I can't...that isn't...my father won't be happy about this! You can't make me torture an innocent girl!" Roose smacked Robb into a sullen silence. "I can and I will. You will or I swear I will flay your elbows. Your father should have taught you better years ago but he didn't. Well, tonight you learn. Now go, all of you that have a hunt."   


	28. Stripping Away Defenses

Hotpie cowered in the back of the pick up truck, huddled into his jacket, crying against the wind. Arya found herself in the awful position of sitting between Polivar and Sandor as they drove home. Sandor drove and began to speak as Polivar was drifting off to a lovely snooze.

"Gregor doesn't allow us attachments. Only loyalty, respect and dedication to each other and Gregor. When I was about ten, I had some kittens, loved the furry little balls. Gregor saw how much I loved them. He waited until I really got attached to them. Then he made me drown them one by one."

Arya gave him a look of sympathy but Sandor wasn't looking at her. A sneer came across his face and he chuckled.

"Now Polivar, he had to learn the same lesson. So when his little girlfriend he was hiding wearing an engagement ring was discovered..." Polivar sat up and grimly stared at Sandor. "That is enough."

Sandor glared and said, "No, its fucking not. I promised a story, she gets it. Fuck you, I have put up with enough of your shit tonight, don't push it any further." Polivar bared his teeth but said nothing.

Sandor continued after a moment of silence in the truck.

"Gregor made Polivar watch while all the boys got a turn on the girl. Then Gregor took a turn, breaking her fucking bones and when he came, he exploded the girl's head with his fucking hands. The lovesick Polivar sprayed vomit everywhere then cried like a fucking baby for hours. He didn't come out of his room for two weeks nearly."

Arya didn't dare smile or laugh but it did make her feel better. However, Polivar was now shooting curses and threats at Sandor.

 

Tyrion was still standing on the table as the Bolton Boys filed out along with Robb Stark handcuffed to Ramsay. Roose waited, looking at Tyrion. "I shall be the escort for the children if you'd like." "No thank you, Roose, I have it." Tyrion said with authority he still hoped he had. Roose nodded and said, "Very well. And who is this young man that Damon was chasing? He is north but not one of us, Tyrion."

Podrick lost all color to his face as Tyrion quickly said, "New employee as of tonight. He is my driver, butler, personal assistant." Roose stared at them both then slowly said, "Keep your boy in line then. And of course he shall live in the servant quarters at your home, correct?"

Nodding, Tyrion assured Roose that Podrick will indeed live in the home and both of them smiled wildly at the man. Roose shook his head and left. Podrick sighed in relief of not losing his very life, as Tyrion turned and slapped his nephew as hard as he could. Then he gave two more slaps to really get his point across.

"You are an idiot! You nearly got yourself killed and Sansa possibly raped! Do you have any idea what they could do to fresh little meat like you two? What the hell were you two thinking coming here?" 

Joff glared and Tyrion and announced that Tyrion couldn't hit him anymore. "Then get your ass into Podrick's car now!" Sansa started to lead Joff towards the car. "Come on, Joff, your father just died, let's go home. Your mother will be expecting you and your grandfather. What would they say if we didn't show up?"

Drunk and pissed, humiliated beyond belief, Joff got halfway across the driveway before flinging Sansa away from himself. "So what if my father died? He was a drunk wife and child beater, he was a traitor to his own friends, who gives a flying fuck if Fat Robert is dead?"

"I don't care what you think. He was a man who raised you, supported and hid your fucked up life so you will pretend to show respect!" Tyrion yelled as he then ruthlessly began to kick Joff's ass all the way into the car.

Sansa waited, lighting a joint and sharing it with Podrick.  When Tyrion came back to retrieve them he finished the joint for them as he lectured Sansa until he finished the weed. A former orderly now turned butler, a stoned dwarf ad two sullen youths in the back headed for home.  

 

Reek followed his Master as he always does. He tries to stay close enough for Ramsay's watchful eye but distant enough not to draw any attention from Robb. It was a near impossible task as his Master and Robb were cuffed together. He kept his eyes down, his head down and stayed near Ramsay's right side. Robb was looking very grim and Ramsay didn't look happy either. Reek himself kept crying and Ramsay yelled at him for it.

"Well, at least he has fucking feelings, Ramsay. I mean, we are about to torture and murder an innocent girl." Robb had grumbled. Ramsay rammed his fist into the dashboard and roared, "Kyra has been my friend too, Robb! I fucking grew up with her, dated her and bet on her in fights. You think I like this? You think I want to kill her? That I want to put her through this fucking hell? We have no choice, asshole! Welcome to the dirty work, you over-privileged asshat."

Damon took his upset over losing his girl out on Kyra. Ben was also sad to have to put Kyra down, but a hunt was still a hunt. Skinner dragged her out of her bed. Ramsay's voice was sympathetic but hard as he told her the death sentence upon her. She screamed, pleaded and swore, making Reek hold his ears shut and cry. He wanted to be home, to have his Master's arms around him and not see this. Not see a nice girl he likes getting hurt and killed. He doesn't want to think about how his best friend Jeyne was just given over to a group that is more sadistic than his own. 

Reek always obeys. So he follows as they drag Kyra and shove her into the woods. They scream for her to run as Robb just keeps apologizing and she keeps screaming at them. Damon had enough of it and unfurled his whip so it could dance. Kyra ran then, she ran very fast, way faster than Reek could.

They drove her, the dogs released, Skinner was hitting her with rocks giggling and Damon would get close enough to lash at her. Red lines and bloody bruises appeared as the girl kept running, trying to change direction to dodge them. She wasn't aware they were driving her but Reek knew it.

For once Reek wasn't the last one in the chase. Robb kept pulling back on the cuff, making it hard for Ramsay to keep up. They fought the whole way and Reek simply followed behind them quietly. He knew when the dogs caught the girl, her scream and the growls let him know and he cried more.

That wasn't the bad part, that was coming next and Ramsay was dragging Robb faster now. Reek didn't want to look but he knew Master would be angry if Reek wasn't watching. After what happened tonight, the last thing Reek wants is Master to be angry with him. Reek wants to keep his fingers and toes.

So he looked down at Kyra, covered in bloody bites, unable to stand on her wounded legs anymore. Damon gave her a few licks of his whip and Skinner kicked her until they heard a rib snap and the two of them laughed. Ramsay approached her and ordered the men to hold her open and down. "Alright, boys, everyone have a turn." Ramsay said in a deadpan voice. The boys swarmed her and Reek watched as she screamed and was repeatedly mounted.

"I won't fucking do it, Ramsay." Robb growled. "Well, I can't either, not with attached to me, fucking talk about losing a boner!" Ramsay growled back. "But you will participate in her torture ad death whether you want to or not. Did you not see how I flayed Dunsen earlier? Did you not notice how he screamed like a little girl? And does he look like a man that screams easily? No. That is because flaying hurts very badly, Robb. And I don't want my father flaying me tonight. So you will join in."

Reek watched as the men pulled Kyra up and tied her between two trees. He hated this part the most and wished he could hide or look away.  This time was even worse, not only was it someone Reek liked but now Robb is being made to help. It took all the boys to hold Robb but Ramsay made that shaking hand hold the knife with him for the first few cuts.Ramsay let Robb's hand go and began to flay in earnest.

Then when Robb couldn't take another second of Kyra's tortured screams and begging for death, Robb slit her throat, crying the whole time. He vomited and shook as if with fever while Ramsay finished skinning Kyra. Only after he had enough skin to please his father, did Ramsay stop. "Reek, come lick me clean." 

It had horrified Robb when Ramsay and the boys got naked for the hunt but he understood the practicality. Seeing Reek eagerly crawl forward to timidly lick every bit of blood off of Ramsay was too much. Robb started to scream at Ramsay then threw up more.


	29. That House No Ever Goes Near

In between the Lannisters and the Baratheon's home was a small road. It wound behind the Lannisters and it connected to a road that wound behind the homes. A small path into the Lannister's property led to a two story rather plain looking house. There were plenty of other small buildings around the estate but only one of them went near this house. A thick tree near the front of the house had a white wooden sign that proclaimed in thick black paint, **THE BARRACKS.**

Not long after they moved into the North, Tywin had the house put up for the Mountain's men. Gregor has his own home within ear and eye shot. A lovely cottage that had luxuries of a penthouse and even his own brother wasn't allowed to step foot in it. He intends to keep his new home as well his position regardless of what all of these rich idiots do. Small things annoy them, like the sounds of young sadistic, energetic men partying or the thought of what the house must smell and look like on the inside.

So Gregor had the barracks soundproofed, only for those outside of it. Inside the house it could sound like a fucking slaughter of demonic forces by evil aliens pissed off about new artwork and no one standing on the porch would hear it. Inside, might as well learn to tune out extra sounds or just join in.  The second thing Gregor had done was make sure the boys understood it was not a frat house. He urged them to think of it as a military barracks or considering the luxuries offered, consider it a man cave for a man with a very socialite wife with O.C.D. associated with cleanliness.

Every room, even each man's own small bedroom had a list of chores posted on it. It lists what days certain things must be done, it lists things that must be done every day or once a month. One complaint that each member of the house has, is the fucking chores. Once it was timed out by Dusten and it turned out that they each lost two hours each day to chores. Once a month the whole house must be turned over and it takes the whole of them about three days to finish the whole thing. Gregor said it should take them one day, before the sunset. When the boys all hotly denied this, Gregor proved it. He dragged a very sullen Sandor with him and the two of them turned the entire barracks in six hours. 

It was never really that clean again. However every chore was checked off and done. It was just that these men didn't have the same version of cleaning that Gregor did. If they went over a dirty spot with a cleaning item, it was cleaned. Even if that spot remained, it was now deemed a cleaned spot. As long as Tywin could walk in and judge it to be tolerable servant quarters then Gregor was happy. Right now Gregor stood staring at his men and he was not happy at all. They were all in front of the barracks but that wasn't his upset. No, his upset was not the mess inside the house but rather the mess his boys made at the bar.

"Enjoy your fucking night with the slut. I mean I want you all to really enjoy yourselves. Get a little more to drink, have a night to remember. Then I want all your asses out here tomorrow morning at six, all lined up. We are going to get the rest of it out of your system with some hardcore training. Dusten, you are NOT excused from this. Go see Qyburn then get your ass back to the barracks. Party or go to sleep, I don't give a fuck but you will be out here at six in the morning. Make sure to pass the message on to Polivar.The second anyone sees Sandor or Arya, tell them to get their asses to my office."

Gregor stormed over to the garage attached to his house that he uses as an office and punishment area if needed. Attached to this is their gym area and training rooms. He didn't even get further than turning on the light before Tywin was calling him. Gregor listened to the new developments and shook his head. What the fuck is wrong with these people? Still listening on the phone, he headed for the Baratheon's house yet again tonight.

After speaking with Tywin and receiving new orders for all, Gregor headed back to the office. His oversized desk chair creaked for mercy but held firm as he sat down. He played with his phone for a moment while thinking out his next move. Opening a drawer, Gregor took out a small bottle of whiskey and a shot glass along with some extra strength Tylenol. A moment later, the door opened and a very large shadow with a much smaller one stood between the dark outside and the lit office. "Get your asses in here now."

Sandor and Arya both stood with their hands behind their backs, chins up and eyes facing forward. Gregor sneered and slowly stood up pacing before them. "Did we have a nice night? Hmm? After you deserted the couple you are supposed to be watching over, you took Polivar to the hospital. And that is all I know, so tell me what happened next?" Gregor glared at Sandor while the man tried to explain the night to him. It ended and Gregor delivered a fist to Sandor's gut that made him bend over with a woofing sound. The fist to the jaw sent Sandor slamming hard to the floor. 

"It never occurred to you to not stop at the quarry with him? It never occurred to you to get in touch with me when shit started to happen? Or how about the decision to leave the couple unattended? Or to decide to just ignore my orders that Arya was only allowed off grounds if she was with you or an escort? DID IT FUCKING OCCUR TO YOU THAT YOU ARE NOTHING BUT A FUCKING HUGE AMOUNT OF MISTAKES! YOU DON'T WANT TO BE KNOWN AS THE NANNY? WHEN WILL YOU DO SOMETHING TO PROVE YOU ARE MORE THAN THAT? YOU CAN'T EVEN DO YOUR NANNY JOB RIGHT! THERE ARE TWO CHILDREN DEAD, TWO ARE BEING ATTACKED AT A BAR AND WHERE THE FUCK IS THE NANNY? HE IS WATCHING ONE OF MY MEN SLAUGHTER A GROUP OF TEENS!"

Gregor roared and Arya quaked but stood still. Sandor spit blood and cringed under his brother's condemnation. A hard kick into Gregor's midsection and then the man started to walk away, breathing heavily. He rotated his neck then his shoulders. Turning around, he started to pace before them, calmer. "Tonight there have been some deaths. Robert fell down his stairs and broke his neck. Myrcella has overdosed at the Stark's home and Bran Stark fell from Cersei's ledge and broke his own neck." He waited as Arya stared up at him in disbelief and opened and closed her mouth for a moment. Tears filled her eyes but did not fall.

Sandor stood back up and narrowed his eyes. "That is an awful lot of accidental deaths in one night between two houses. There will be trouble and now Joff will think he's the fucking man of the house."

Gregor snorted. "Of course there will be trouble! And leave Joff to his grandfather and uncles. Tywin will keep Cersei and Joff in line. Each house will blame the other for their child's death and demand some payback. It is more important than ever to keep an eye on this family. Tommen and Joff are targets for the Starks. Not to mention we have the Boltons pissed about the bar situation tonight. I want everyone to tighten their shit up while we have a few quiet days while they set up their fucking services. I want to see you on the lawn of the barracks at six in the morning. There will be new orders for all and that will be after I make you all sweat out your fucking stupidity. Now get out."

"Not you, girl. Just Sandor."


	30. The Barracks

"Move, keep walking. No, stop there, can't have you going inside the Barracks like that. You fucking dirty, stinking thing...here, we can use the garden hose. Oh, is it too cold, gonna cry again, Piggy? Here, use this, we use it to wash our cars, it will do. Get under every one of those fat rolls, boy! Look at you, I can't decide if I want to laugh or cry, boy! Don't worry, working here will get you in shape sooner or later. Or maybe I'll just keep trying to beat the fat out of you! Clean and shiny pink, perfect. Now, get your ass up on the porch."

"Last time Gregor was here he left some old undershirt that had ripped while he was beating the shit out of Tickler. It might actually work for you...here it is, we haven't emptied this bin in a while...Look at that! It covers you almost to your damned knees. Your fat rolls are almost hidden until you move. Good enough for you, isn't it, Piggy?"

Hotpie nods. Of course he nods, this is the way of things, always with the bullies. You agree, you let them humiliate you and hope they go away. Eventually they do, in spite of seeing his friends die, in spite of standing here, Hotpie clung to his theory. Just let it happen and it will end. He stubbornly held that theory even as they entered the house. It was clung to as the others exclaimed surprise, disgust and humor over Hotpie. They taunted and poked for a moment. He was dragged through the house fast, shown lists of chores on every door and threatened over what would happen if they were not done.

Fine. No problem, if he does these things they will laugh and somewhere along the way someone will release him. They will get bored. They probably just need the house cleaned and don't want to do it. He will do it and go home. His uncle won't even notice if he was missing a few days. No big deal, just take it. Until he was brought back to watch something, all he heard was "Raff was taming his feral cunt". It sounded like something he would not want to see.

He timidly offered to Polivar to begin cleaning instead. Polivar responded with punching Hotpie until he cried. "Did I tell you to come with me? Yeah? Then what do you think it means? Stupid fucking piggy, get your ass moving! Now stand right here and don't move. Do you some good to see what happens to those who piss us off. This bitch here, she decided to piss off Raff...now she pays. Soon as it's all over, you get to start cleaning the mess and I am sure there will be one hell of a mess." Hotpie swallowed hard and tried to stay completely still. He wished Polivar would order him to crawl around snorting. Then he wouldn't have to look.

 _It can't be any worse than what I've already seen_. _Just let it happen, girl, just like I am and it will end soon._ Then he saw the tiny fierce little girl that was doused with a bucket of water. He has seen her before, she was the girlfriend of the largest Bolton boy and she was known to be a crazy bitch. Hotpie saw her in a fight once and she beat the girl nearly senseless just for calling her a name. She was meek when she was next to her boyfriend but on her own the girl was hell on wheels. Piggy groaned softly knowing this girl wouldn't take it and just hope it would end. All Hotpie could do was watch and hope it ended fast. He was sure they would rape her then just put a bullet in her head.

 Almost analytically, Hot Pie observed how the others circled the girl to drive her into panic, while Raff leaned against the wall. The man was handsome in an angular, almost angelic and young way. His eyes nearly glowed as if seeing a special gift, his perfectly formed lips were trying to form a smirk and somehow it worked. Yet it made the man look like some demonic angel and Hotpie shuddered. He never understood that about those kind of bullies. The always nice looking ones, the smart ones that could be doing everything and anything because of how they look. Why they would waste times tormenting those who aren't as lucky?

Judging by the intense look on Raff's face, his bullying of this girl will be something that would be terrible. Hotpie tried to not think at all, after he thought something that made him shamed. At least I won't be the only one pissing down their leg too. The men were all laughing, taunting her and grabbing, pinching, grasping at her. She fought them, Jeyne growled and shook, spinning, biting, kicking and punching never quite getting through the ring of hands and bodies. "Damon and Ramsay will come for me! If I don't kill you one by one myself! You fucking raging battle chodes, you think I'll let you fuck me? Are you all that desperate, huh? That fucking pathetic you can't hook up with a willing girl?"

But Hotpie saw the fear and dilated eyes, the trembling, teeth chattering, if he can see it from here, they all see it. And they started to close in, letting her go wild with panic. Jeyne leaped backwards, hit the table and rolled over it. She came down and grabbed the chair and brought it down over Tickler. "Ow, dammit! That hurt." He grumbled, but then grinned at her. Jeyne swore as she leaped onto the table and began to pant, her eyes darting for an escape, a weapon. Hotpie wondered if they would let her use one, just to taunt her. Sure enough, Dusten came forward with a fork. He carefully extended his arm and slowly place the fork on the table. 

"Here. Tell you what, we'll give you one chance. We admire the shit out of your fighting spirit. And you were clearly given a few lessons with Kyra. I mean...we aren't against women fighting, after all. Hell, we have Arya Stark as one of our own! So..I'll tell you what. If you can manage to injure one of us with that fork, I'll let you leave. Raff, you agree to that?" Dusten looked over at his friend with a charming smile. Hotpie thought if the girl believed that, she was an idiot. This was the other good looking one who just dripped charm that was mixed with a sadism that so few so coming. Two of one kind of bully, the rest are the monster he is most used to. 

Raff straightened up and seemed to consider this. He smirked at Jeyne then shrugged. "Why not?" Sneering, Tickler paced back and forth like a caged lion. "This bitch doesn't understand how much we were holding back at the bar. Go on, little feral, see where challenging us gets you." Jeyne was desperate, Hotpie saw it in her eyes, that deep down she knew that wasn't leaving her alive. And yet, the same as Hotpie had to believe he'd leave after they got bored with him, Jeyne had to believe she could win. She grabbed the fork and leaped. Jeyne was tired and terrified and panicked, but they were fast and brutal. It took them only moments to get the fork away without a scratch among them. 

"Don't break any bones, don't wreck her face..." Raff called over. They fell upon her with fists and feet. Hotpie winced and stifled whimpers as tears fell. Jeyne screamed and cursed at them, trying to fight them off. She was beaten until the words became nothing but howls of pain and whimpering. No longer fighting, curled on the ground, trying to cover her head with her arms. That is when Raff came forward, smiling. He pulled her up by a fistful of hair. Raff's eyes glowed as if he were seeing his lover, his words soft and lilting, as if he were trying to charm her. "You are going to be MY feral bitch from now on, dear heart. Let's start with a very simple but truly needed lesson. You are a rude mouthy cunt. I don't like that. I want my pet to be silent unless I want to hear her. And after hearing your mouth all night, I no longer wish to hear you speak."

Hotpie was desperate to look away as the men held the screaming girl still. Raff looked angelic even while he was sewing her lips shut with a silver wire. Then they threw her to the ground and for a moment, Jeyne curled, holding her mouth in horror. She tried to stand and run. Dusten kicked her hard back to the kitchen tiles. Raff walked over her cringing, bruised body and showed her a length of cable wire. "I don't need a real whip to make my point. Or maybe I do? Let's find out. Next important lesson. You do not run from me, you don't even get to stand up unless you have permission. Now, lovely girl, we do need to make sure this lesson really sticks with you. Feral bitches are generally very stupid. It is alright though, little pet, I am going to help you." With every strike, Hotpie flinched.

It continued until the girl began to not just scream but try and beg through her sewn mouth. "You want me to stop? Crawl to me and rub your pretty little face on my boots." Jeyne scrambled on her hands and knees to put her head down onto the boot, her body covered in swollen lines, her back, arms, chest and legs and ass. Her breasts had a few lines deep enough with seeping blood. As the trembling girl groveled before him, Raff brightened his smile. "Good girl." He leaned down and ran a hand down her head and back, making her whimper in pain and shudder in fear. When he straightened up he looked at his friends and smirked at their lustful looks at his new pet.

"Oh alright, tell you fucking perverts what. Everyone gets one turn. After I fuck her first of course. I mean, she is sloppy seconds from the Boltons, but she is mine. Don't want to have her ripped apart by you assholes so I can't use her. So no tearing her up, Gregor will be pissed if I have to bring her to the clinic. The only one that gets to break Jeyne is me." Hotpie watched hopelessly as they held her up, spreadeagled tightly by large hands. Raff stood between her legs and told her once she has earned it, he would use lubricant. Then he wiped the blood from a very deep cut upon her stomach unto his cock. He plunged into her and fucked her so hard the boys almost dropped the girl twice. Screaming beneath her gag, Jeyne tried to squirm but couldn't get away.

He came hard, whispering that Jeyne was his now, his own little tiny fuckpet. Then he pulled out and gave her a smirk. "You have no choices anymore. You have nothing but what I give you, you will do everything that I tell you. Now, you will be fucked hard by each of these men," Pausing, Raff gave a tiny laugh. "Don't worry, little girl, you don't have to fuck that fat shit over there..just my brothers." Hotpie was too horrified by it all to even be embarrassed. Raff stepped aside and Polivar was there. He grabbed her and threw her onto the table. Jeyne scrambled for a minute, trying to get hold of the slippery wooden surface. Polivar grabbed her legs and yanked them onto his shoulders. He used one hand to hold her wrists together and rode her frantically.

Hotpie would have done anything to shut his eyes or even gouge them out. After Polivar shuddered to an end while still hissing insults at her, Tickler took his turn. They forced her on her hands and knees, ass up and head down. Polivar kept his foot on her head, so she would not try to move away. Hotpie watched as Tickler dug his sharp fingernails into her hips until small scarlet streams delicately ran down her skin. He knelt behind her and fucked her like a dog. Grunting and sweating profusely, his balls were slapping against the girl who was screeching through the wire. Tickler had taken her up the ass and it became apparent very fast that she was a virgin there. The screaming and jerking in pain made the sadist go fast. 

Jeyne lay there, semen and blood leaking out of her, sobbing, no fight left as Dusten approached. "Aww...poor thing..you must be raw as hell, huh?" He cooed then he leaned down and he gently lifted her up. Cradling the tiny girl, Dusten sat in a chair. Jeyne whined and tensed as he swiftly undid his pants. "Ride me, little feral. I will be kind, I won't fuck you up your ass, I won't hit you while we fuck." Jeyne sobbed but lowered her head, nodding. "Good girl! Oh, I think I am jealous, Raff!" Dusten joked, as he showed Jeyne a small bottle. "Here, you deserve a reward. You may use this on my cock and yourself, if you do it right now." Hotpie watched as the broken girl used the lube, her small hands working on Dusten's cock and she winced when she touched herself with the lube.

"Oh, poor sweet little fucktoy has been all used hard. Just one more cock, honey then maybe your Master will let you rest if you grovel him nicely enough." Hotpie watched as Jeyne whined in pain and forced herself to ride Dusten's cock. He put his hands on her waist and began to lift and drop her hard. Her hands clutched his shoulders, as Dusten started to ram her up and down as if she were a sex toy. He groaned and stood up, holding her by her ass and her throat. He fucked her against the wall, while she begged and whined under her sealed lips. Dusten groaned in pleasure as he poured himself into her. Gently, he put her on the ground and whispered, "Crawl to your Master and grovel. Maybe it will get you some mercy."

Jeyne crawled fast over to Raff and groveled. But Hotpie knew that it wasn't over yet. Raff petted her head and smiled approvingly. "Good girl. Now, let's get some pictures and then I'll show you where you can rest. You'll love it." Hotpie was dry eyed now. With his hands held behind his back, Hotpie stood and stared at them as his empathy rapidly decreased and his survival needs grew stronger.


	31. No Sympathy Cards or Casseroles Yet Please

Jon staggered into the house, having walked in shock all the way home. He was covered in blood and gore because he had tried to see if he could somehow fix the wound. Then when he saw her brains, he clutched her and screamed, cried for who knows how long. He opened his car door and just began to head home. It was late, everything was quiet and dark, Jon assumed no one would see him. He wanted to shower and go to bed. Tears kept falling and he kept seeing her eyes go blank, it haunted him.

"Jon." No. No, no no, he couldn't, not tonight. "I can't. Please don't...Ygritte...shot in the head. I am covered in her. Not tonight. This once please have mercy." Cat's face was stone as always. "No. There is a shower in our room, use it quickly. Ned is occupied in his den." She went into her room and Jon thought about running away. Or telling his father or a hundred other things like breaking this evil bitch's neck. He sobbed hard but entered the room. Showering fast and vigorously, Jon tried to go away in his head, away from it all. But he kept coming back to a gunshot.

He knelt before his stepmother, naked and wet as she commanded. This was the most she had ever spoken to him since training him. Jon was in a state of shock, he couldn't think for himself at all. Somehow Cat found this even more arousing, trying to fight down the shame that tried to stop her. "Do I have to remind you how to use your mouth, boy?" She was sitting in the same chair she had nursed her own children in, legs spread wide, her robe nearly crumpled beneath her. Jon shook his head and began to use his tongue to please her.

She could feel his tears, feel his pain and the way his shoulders shuddered, it made her moan. Suddenly, Cat found plenty to say. "You poor bastard. I heard that Locke put a bullet right in Ygritte's head in front of you. Now you are truly alone, you little bastard. Will you watch them put her in the ground?" Jon sobbed and Cat slammed her cunt into his face, grabbing fistfuls of his hair, fucking hard on his face.

"Lick me or I'll beat you! I'll fuck you with my strap on! Do you remember that time when you were so bad! A ten year old little shit that didn't want to obey just because he had a small root canal! Remember how you screamed into that gag? Do you remember how hard I fucked you? I came three times before I stopped. Do you want me to do that tonight? That way you can have a whole new memory for the night? It can be the night that your one true love died and you were brutally raped by your stepmother. That's better, cry and lick, you fucking bastard, don't you dare stop or I'll do it!" 

Cat threw him to the ground and crawled on top of his face. She never looked at anything, she was drowning in Jon's agony. Very quietly, in the dark hallway, Ned was peering through the crack in the door. His face was carved granite, his mouth turned down grimly. And yet, he did not end Jon's suffering, he waited. Mainly because he wanted to record the entire thing, what a gem to have over his wife. But he was angry at her for this, how dare she? Disgusting bitch and yet his cock grew hard at the thought of his revenge upon her.

"She is dead...already turning to rot. You are alone, you are nothing, you have nothing. Does it hurt, Jon? Does it hurt to lose someone whom you truly loved? Did you have dreams of marrying her, running away with her? Having children with her?" The boy sobbed barely able to use his tongue at all, he couldn't even breathe, he was strangling a little and that did it.

Cat snapped her hips hard, grinding hard against Jon's face then tensed, soaking the boy's face. "I wish you died with her." She managed to squeal out before she lost words. Shuddering, pouring onto him, Cat made a high pitched sound before slumping on him for a moment. Then she moved over, the orgasm was too powerful for her to stand yet. 

Jon curled into a ball, knowing the rules, he cannot wipe or wash his face until morning. Cat panted for a moment, then got as far as reaching the chair. She was about to use it to get up when the door slowly finished swinging open and there was Ned. Suddenly, Cat was able to spring up, clawing at the robe on the chair. hurrying to wrap it around herself like a shield. Jon wailed in terrible shame and fear upon seeing his father's shoes enter the room.

"How long?" His voice was low and thick. Cat paled and shrugged. "A long time." "How long? Jon, how long?" Jon sat up, head down and muttered, "Since I can remember, I think. I try not to think of it." Ned nodded. "Jon, wash your face, shower again in fact, then go to bed. This will never happen again. Jon, if she ever asks you again, you have my permission to tell her no. Then come tell me of it."

With a grateful sob, Jon hurried to get dressed. "Thank you, father. Thank you." Jon ran out of the room and threw himself into another shower. It felt wonderful to scrub his face and he sobbed and howled wordlessly for himself and for Ygritte.

Cat backed away as Ned approached her. He waved his phone at her. "Go ahead, say you'd just deny it. Keep pissing me off enough, I might divorce you and what would you get after I show this? Huh? Think I can't get each of the kids to say they were abused as well or that they were the ones that taped this? You disgusting bitch and you dare to say Cersei's scandal is a disgrace? You have spent years molesting and tormenting my son. It fucking ends tonight forever. I need a strong loyal male to serve me more than I need you. You can't give me anymore children, the kids hate you. I could remarry, some young thing that is sweet to the kids and can breed more. So you think of that the next time you decide to bother my son! Maybe I can give you an alternative. Yeah?" 

As Ned began to unbuckle his belt then remove his clothing, Cat tried to protest. "Please, not while you are so angry! We have services! Media coming! I can't be injured, Ned! Think of it, please!" Ned grimly assured her, "Don't worry, it won't be anything anyone can see, love. Now that off that robe and get on the bed. Or else, I can offer a beating instead?" He was careful when he fisted her not to cause much damage, though he enjoyed her sobbing.

"You used a strap on? Was it nice and big? Get it, I want to see it." Ned stared at the gruesome horror. It was large black rubber with a strange tip to it. It was quite large and would take an adult man time to adjust to it. "I am surprised he didn't hemorrhage and die, Cat." She sniffed and wiped her nose as her tears kept coming. "I used a good amount of lube and I took my time inserting it. He did have some damage, tearing, afterwards. I took him to a free clinic an hour away and they stitched him up."

Ned shook his head in revolted disbelief and yet he started to get a hard grin on his face. He noticed a wire sneaking out of the bottom of the dildo and it ended in a small ball to be pressed. Grabbing the ball, Ned pressed it, expecting it to vibrate or pulse. Instead there was a small jolt, it was a shock that was only half as painful as being tasered. He experimented with it on his hand. "How many times did you press the bulb when you fucked my ten year old son with this?"

Cat said nothing and one large hand was magically squeezing her throat as he grinned into her face. "How. Many?" She gasped for air, ripping at his hand with her nails. "Seven at least! I don't know maybe more!" Ned released her throat and Cat couldn't help herself as she hissed at him, "It was the best fuck I'd ever had! I have fantasized about doing it again so many times! His fucking pain is the best aphrodisiac I can ever have!"

It took everything within him to remember that his wife cannot show up at the services if she is in the hospital with a broken jaw. He threw her stomach down on the bed. "Hands and knees, you revolting cunt! Let's see how many times I can press the button before I come." While Cat screamed into the mattress, Ned used the lube quite sparingly before forcing the dildo up her ass.

Leaning over her, he fucked her hard with it, while he slid his cock into her pussy. As he pumped her in both holes, he spoke harshly. "Your husband despises you. Your children hate you. Even your son, your favorite child would rather be with a Bolton in a bar then anywhere near you. Everyone, including your friends all despise you." He squeezed the pump. As his wife tensed and twitched, screeching, he had to admit it did feel and sound wonderful. He used it ten times before he spilled his load into her.


	32. Elegant Beasts

Cersei sat on the couch with Tommen laying with his back against her. She wrapped him in blankets and wrapped her arms around him. He was so cold, teeth chattering and yet, he was sweating. Baring her teeth, she looked up at her father. "They did this! Look at him, he is sick and terrified! Where is Qyburn?" She had to concentrate on this living, breathing boy in her arms. She cannot think of losing her daughter yet, no, better to focus on Tommen. He was a sweet boy, just a little quirky, a boy who liked to be left to himself. But he was her son and someone hurt him.

Tywin sighed. "Of course they are responsible for it." He leaned down and looked at Tommen. "You do not have to use your words. All you have to do is use your head to shake yes or no. And then I'll not bother with it again. Deal?" The boy nodded slowly. "Good. Now. You and your sister were drugged and interrogated by Mr. and Mrs. Stark. About your mother and father, about the family, about if Robert really fell? Your sister reacted badly to the medication and they threatened you if you told us. Correct?"

Cersie sobbed once as Tommen timidly nodded and looked away. Nodding with satisfaction, Tywin stood up. "I wouldn't put it past them to have drugged their son afterwards for their cover story." Tommen gave another quick nod, looking at his twitching hands. Cersie felt tears of rage fall down her face. She hissed out, "They will pay. I'll-"

"You'll do NOTHING. You will say nothing."  Tywin broke in. "If you say a word to them about the mysterious death of your daughter or the condition of your son...they will have questions to ask about Bran's death and Robert's. Do you want the pictures on the news to be of you and Cat as grieving widows or of two rich society wives that killed each others children? Because I can promise you, it will be you that I will scapegoat for this. And Ned won't hesitate to do the same to his wife. You know I speak the truth."

"Yes, I am aware of how much you two value women. So I am to just let this go...you have no plans for payback?" Cersei hugged her son as if he were a teddy-bear to comfort her, he squirmed and whined a little. Tywin snorted. "We are slowly taking over everything, this time next year everything will be ours. They will mostly be dead except Sansa, Arya and possibly the youngest boy if we can get him at the end. The Boltons will take me up on my offer as soon as they see the Starks weakened. If you behave, then when it is time, I will allow you to be there when Cat dies or perhaps you can even participate in it. If you are a good girl."

Cersei shivered at her father's terrible pet name for her and the warning. At the same time her nipples grew hard, oh to slit Cat's throat or poison her. She swears she would masturbate as the woman died. "I would love to do it myself, daddy. I promise to be a good girl."

The conversation ended just as Joff, Sansa and Tyrion came in. All three still drunk and Tyrion went to the bar without a word to anyone. Joff staggered to the couch and glared blearily at everyone. "What the fuck has happened?" As Tywin gave the news of all the murders he made enough scathing remarks towards the three of them for not being there. All three had cringed at least twenty times.

Tyrion was originally only getting a drink for himself but he gave one to Sansa out of sympathy. She had tried to speak to Tommen and Cersei and the golden lioness roared her away. "Cersei is emotional right now but I am sure later on she will appreciate your support, Sansa. Why don't you sit next to Joff?" 

Sansa sat down and Joff got up to see what was twinkling on the small side table. "Are these all of my fathers rings?" Tywin nodded. "Yes, I decided to give them to you rather than bury them. Regardless of the difficult relationship you had with your father, he was your father and you should have something from him. And you should wear it to honor him."

It was said without any emotion or passion, just another rule of society to be passed on. Another meaningless tradition for Joff to stuff into his head and it pissed him off. "Oh, great. Thanks, Grandfather." As a twisted smile started to creep across his face, Joff put all six large rings on.

"Oh Sansa, would you come here a moment? I want your help to see something better." Joff's words were slurred but he was casual in his request. "Of course. Sure." Sansa hauled herself to her feet after taking another large sip of her drink. She walked slowly and without very good balance over to Joff. "What can I help-" Joff's bejeweled backhand sent Sansa skidding across the floor. A trail of spit and blood began where she landed.

"Hey, look up, I want to see your face." A large cut on her right cheek and a split lip. A large red bruise growing on her cheekbone with an indent of a stag. Cersei gasped and sat up while Tommen curled into a ball. "Joff! What have you done? How am I to hide that from the pubic, from her family? With  your father's rings nonetheless."

Tywin stared as Joff laughed cruelly. "I figured that since father only wore all his rings when he might want to hit someone, I wanted to see if it felt as good for me as it seemed to for him. I agree with the fat fuck, it does feel very good. I also agree with his assessment on hitting wives. It is never good to hit a wife in the face. That left more damage than I thought it would. Whoops."

Tyrion was trying to help Sansa to her feet then ran to get her ice, after giving Joff a look of disgust. He came back and helped the girl to lay on the couch with the ice on her face as he called for Qyburn again. At this rate by the time the man showed, there could be a houseful of patients.

"And you think this is funny? To deliberately ruin your image and hers with this behavior? Also, you need Sansa as your partner, you should attempt to treat her as one. Even behind closed doors, boy. Do not act so impulsively again, young man. Now the women will both have to wear veils tomorrow. You need to be a grown up, the man of this house now, Joff. Not a little boy pulling wings off flies. Grow up and start being part of the solutions, not the problems. If you ever hope to rise as high as me, you best pull your damned depraved head straight. Hear me?" Tywin stared down at Joff, who finished another drink.

"Yeah, I hear you. Know what you should hear? Huh? My father was a fat, raging abusive drunk but only the last few years. He had half the North in the palm of his hand then he married YOUR daughter. I can vaguely remember him as this buff fucking handsome asshole. Before he lost everything to you. You forced him to betray his own friends, his own family then you once you wring every last thing and suck his soul dry you just leave it to your daughter to poison or throw him down the stairs. So fuck your family loyalty, it kills just as fast as betrayal, maybe quicker." 

Tywin took a step closer, his eyes were glaciers. Tyrion and Cersei froze and Sansa quickly tried to stand up and grab Joff's hand. "He didn't mean that, Mr. Lannister. Please, we are very drunk, Joff will apologize for it in the morning. I'm sure he won't even remember it. I will take Joff to his room then go to my own. Please forgive our drunkness, we are shameful and sorry for it."

Tywin nodded grimly. "You will go to bed, Joff, right now. We shall speak more tomorrow." Sansa started to pull Joff with her but he jerked back. "I'm not tired!" He yelled stubbornly at his grandfather and Sansa wanted to kill him herself for his stupidity. Going to his side, making sure that her bleeding cheek was in full view, Sansa tried a new tact. "Please..Joff..I drank and smoked a lot and I want to...spend some time as we get ready for bed."

Joff turned to look at her and grinned at the flinch she made when he stroked her bruise. "Sure..but I'm not going to bed because I am tired." Tywin nodded then said, "Before you head upstairs, I have these sleeping pills that will help you sleep, Joff. Here. Take them while I can see you do it." Joff spun around to growl, "I am not tired!"

Swallowing hard, Sansa went forward and grabbed the pills and carried them back, after Tyrion handed her his drink. "Please, Joff, just swallow them and we'll go hang out in bed until it kicks in." She tried to flirt and put them into his mouth. As Joff felt her fingers slip the pills into his mouth, he tried to pull away. Sansa grabbed his face and turned him to look at her then she whispered to him sweetly.

"There have been enough deaths tonight. Please, let it go. Swallow the pills and let's go upstairs. I will tuck you in however you want me to, alright?" Joff narrowed his eyes and gave her a cruel smile. He swallowed then dragged her towards the staircase. "Fine, you won this one but until I fall asleep, I'm going to fuck you. There is really no need to wait for the wedding, after all."

Sansa sighed and muttered, "Actually I just saved you from Tywin Lannister's wrath but don't bother seeing it that way. Your way flatters your ego much more."  Joff barely made it into his room before commanding her to take her clothes off. When he felt she wasn't fast enough, he tore them off her then took his own off. He shoved her into the bed and landed on her. Sansa regretted her offer of making out or even sex now that Joff was actually doing it.

Every action he made was designed to hurt her and inflame him. He pinched and twisted her nipples and bit them until they were raw. In fact he bit her everywhere, it made her shriek a bit and jump. It was her own fault, Joff hissed drunkenly, she lays there like a lump otherwise. "I'm not meat, Joff! Stop biting me!" Luckily for her, Joff passed out a few moments later. She tossed him off and went to take a shower.

Then Cersei was there with Qyburn to stitch her cheek. It was another half hour before she could shower but the bite marks, bruises and her new stitches stayed. Cersei had given her painkillers and an ice pack to stay on her face while she slept to reduce swelling.  Suddenly, as Sansa lay there she remembered why it was important for her swelling to go down. Because there were deaths.

One of them was Bran, a little brother that she adored as a child. He was so inquisitive and cute, Sansa took him everywhere. Then they both grew older and grew apart. Now there will never be some years later reunion where they suddenly become close, their new families melding. Sansa soundlessly cried herself to sleep.


	33. Losing Those Rose Colored Glasses

Sandor stood in the doorway for a moment, worry clear on his face. Slowly, painfully slow, Gregor turned to stare at his brother. "Did I give an order for you leave?" The growl was so low and threatening, Arya shuddered. "Yes. Just worried for the little girl." Sandor managed to get out even as he began to shut the door.

Gregor's hand came so fast and hard all Arya could think was it felt like being struck with a side of frozen beef. Just a slap really, no different than her mother does so why is she on the floor? She struggled to remember to stand but it was already too late. For a moment Arya thought he had ripped her straight through but no. Somehow he had his WHOLE FUCKING HAND around her waist and was lifting her by it! In panic, she tried to kick and flail but then she was sailing through the air. In a bizarre calmness she thought, Oh, I'm heading into the wall, I'm going to die.

Slamming into a stack of mats didn't stop the scream of pain, to Arya she might as well have slammed into a tree. Falling boneless to a mat left on the floor, Arya tried to remember how to breathe. She could barely twitch and awful whooping but so weak breaths were all she could manage. Gregor's huge boot was here now and Arya watched it, fascinated. It seemed she had time to see the treads and the dirt within them. She thought he would stomp through her chest, crushing her heart into a smear.

The foot hurt indeed and the breathing was over. She missed it, meager as it was. Gregor was grinning down at her in a very unpleasant way. "Now, do I have your complete attention?" It made her see stars but she managed to nod her head. "Good." He removed his weight off her chest enough for her to breathe weakly again. "Tywin Lannister is unsure of your loyalty to us. He also worries that my brother might have your sympathies. That if you went rouge, tried to get some revenge for your family, my brother would try to help or at least shield you. Do you think this reflects well upon me?"

"I'm loyal.." She managed to gasp out. Gregor leaned down and breathing became a distant memory. "Are you? Will you be loyal if Tywin has your father shot in the head? If Cersei decides to get revenge for her daughter and kills your mother with her fucking steel stiletto heels? What if Ramsay Bolton is told to stab your brother in the heart? Or if Joff loses his temper and breaks your pretty sister's neck? Huh? Can I rely on you to do your fucking job and follow orders? You are too young, too fucking little for all of this, aren't you? Go on, give up, please tell me you give up."

Suddenly Arya was back in the air and here is the wall, it hurt to be pressed against it. A whine burst out of her and Gregor chuckled. "There is no going home, sweetheart. Tywin already let me know, if you don't work out...you are mine to do with as I want. Can you imagine the options? I could make sure you never run simply by smashing your legs and feet. I wonder what it would be like to always have to pull yourself along by your hands? It would be so amusing. At least for awhile. Frankly, I don't think you'd last very long as my pet. Most of my pets don't live beyond a few months at best."

"Loyal. I'm loyal and I'm learning to be stronger. You see me train, I have given up everything to be one of your company. I didn't even try to help my friends! I don't give a fuck about any of my family!" Gregor snarled and the fist that was holding her up by her collar twisted tightly. "I believed you until you mentioned your family. Try for the truth this time. Or should I just get to fucking you and seeing if you survive it?" Arya cried out and blurted, "I care about Sansa! I would feel bad for Rickon and Jon but I wouldn't intervene! I don't give a fuck about my parents or Robb!" Gregor loosened his grip enough for her to breathe more.

"That sounds more like honesty. Now, what if Sansa dies? If Joff kills her in front of you? And you have no right to intervene? What are you going to do?" Gregor's face was in hers, his eyes glaring, forcing her to see the image and play it out in her head. And it hurt, Arya felt ripped, torn, destroyed and oh she loathed herself. Defeated, she let herself go limp and whispered, "I will not try to save her. I won't avenge her. I will obey whatever orders I have been given." Arya couldn't help the tears that blurred Gregor's terrifying face but he didn't seem to mind them. It was almost as if they confirmed to him that she was telling the truth.

"As of tonight, you and my brother are transferred. Tywin has decided to bring you and Sandor into his home to live and work. He likes to keep his enemies and hostages very close. It is on you to show him that you are not either. That you are a loyal member of my company. Go tell Sandor that you both best get your shit moved over now. Use the servants entrance, someone will show you to your new rooms. Both of you better be out front at six in the morning, fresh and ready to go. We are going to have some exercise to sweat the stupid out of all of you!" Gregor dropped her onto the mat and walked away to his desk already having dismissed her from his mind.

He watched from the corner of his eye while the girl tried to stagger to her feet. Arya managed to wobble towards the door and Gregor snorted in amusement. Then he took the syringe from his pocket and threw it into the desk trash. Pulling out his phone he set up the tracker system and grinned.  Stupid girl didn't even notice Gregor injected the tiny chip into her side.  Arya might think she is loyal, but this will give him and Tywin certainty of it.

She almost escaped when he grumbled again, making her freeze. "If you are working with me, if you are near Tywin, you'll also be closest to the worst of betrayals. There may be a day when you have to kill a Northerner, a friend, family. In fact, it will happen. This is going to be a bloodbath soon. I would prepare yourself to have to see the faces of those who call you a traitor as they die from your own knife or bullet. Now get out."

Sandor watched the girl slowly make her way towards him. She looked a lot better than he expected her to. It was her face that made him wince. Eyes like black holes, face the color of parchment and the silent tears of self loathing. "He made you drown your kittens, didn't he?" Arya nodded and told him of their move in a slowly deadening voice.


	34. If You Act Like A Child.....

_This isn't happening. This cannot be happening. I am not sobbing, screaming, begging, snot running down my nose. It isn't real, its a nightmare. The pain was terrible, how can this produce pain so terrible?_ His own father never caused so much agony or humiliation. The sounds were terrible, the continual crack, his own desperate sickening pleas and howls, the worst was the laughter. Ramsay, his boys, Locke, all watching it, laughing at him. In front of Theon. Who was just giving him a pitying, empathizing look. _It was intolerable. This just not happening._

They had only returned to the Bolton Estate. Ramsay had no choice but to bring Robb since they were still handcuffed together. Roose had met them all on the lawn in front of the house. The sodium arc lights illuminated everything as if it were day. It seemed as if the rest of the world was dark and this was all that was left. Roose was assured of Robb's participation before he unlocked the cuffs. But he didn't allow Robb to leave, nor did he dismiss anyone. 

Glaring at Robb and Ramsay, Roose spoke. "Everything that transpired at that bar is your fault. The two of you are still stuck in your little war, since you were small boys. It was mildly amusing when you were children but now it is costing lives. It might cost us a lot more. I won't have it, you will learn to be partners together. Think of it as a forced marriage boys. You may hate each other in private all you wish, but so help me gods, you will NEVER allow your personal war to infect our work ever again. Now, since you both wanted to act like boys, you may get punished like it."

Robb was shocked when Roose grabbed his hair and dragged him fast to a stone bench. He tried to pull back and received a hard punch to his kidney. It was enough to allow the loathsome man to pull Robb's pants down and force him over his lap. When Robb recovered enough to struggle, Roose spoke chillingly soft. "If you fight this punishment, I will flay your buttock instead. I will tie you down upon this lawn and remove half the skin on your buttock. Do you think its a false threat?" Robb frozen and gritted his teeth. "My father.." That was when the first strike came.

Robb had gasped, instantly in pain. Roose was not using his hand or a belt, he was using a wooden paddle that had not only small holes but a few extra wooden dulled spikes for extra impact. Roose was timed and brutal as he silently paddled Robb until his ass was purple with small bloody dots all over. Shoving Robb off his lap onto the ground, Roose curled his finger at his son. "Ramsay. Do not make me come get you."

The sadistic joy that was on Ramsay's face suddenly was wiped off. His eyes went down and he flushed red as he went forward. During his paddling, Ramsay almost screamed as loud as Robb did near the end of it. His ass was just as destroyed. The only difference was there was no laughter from the other boys now. Just an uncomfortable silence. After Roose finished with Ramsay, he made them all watch while the boys received the same punishment by Locke. The only untouched was Reek but he knew that as soon as Ramsay had him alone that would change. 

An hour later Robb was at home, vomiting and sobbing into his toilet. Ramsay was indeed spanking Reek as hard with his own paddle while accusing him of setting Robb off in the first place. And Damon was looking at the pictures that Raff has sent him on his cell phone. Jeyne with her mouth sewn shut with wire, bruised, bloody and covered in jizz. That was the most conservative pic out of the bunch. He was the only one who didn't cry during the brutal paddling, but in the dark he cried now, clutching his phone.

Roose went to his study and paced with his hands behind his back. After a little while his phone rang and he answered it. "Yes, I will meet you and Walder for lunch but if Ned finds out...I hear you but I...fine. Goodnight." He threw his phone down in disgust and in a small fit of temper, Roose swore. Taking a few deep breaths, Roose gave a small nod as if to confirm his decision and he turned off the light in the study.

He needed to sleep. The next few days maybe too hectic for sleep, best to get some now. And best not to think of what he was thinking of doing. His own son might declare him a traitor, his own son might try and overthrow him for his next few steps. Roose felt a little bad at the thought of having to kill Ramsay to stay alive. Maybe it won't come to that and Roose fell into a dreamless sleep.


	35. The Lovely Dawn Of A New Day

Hotpie was pulled from what was his new sleeping quarters. His head whacked against the washing machine as Poliver yanked harder on his leg then delivered a punch into his thigh. "Get the fuck up! What did I tell you, huh? You be up before me! You have the fucking coffee ready every day on time! I don't give a fuck if you have no timer, find one! Next time, I'll strap you with my belt while you squeal naked crawling through the house! You hear me, Piggy?" "Yes, Yes, I hear you! I'm sorry!"

"You make sure there is breakfast and coffee when I return, you hear me? And you best have my laundry sorted and my bed made before I get back too." Poliver grumbled as he tried to chug coffee that Dusten had made while he dragged his ass to the door. Timidly, Hotpie asked, "What time will you be back so your food is hot and ready?" He dodged as the hot mug of coffee came crashing at him.

Gregor stood on his porch, sipping his espresso. He was wearing a very comfortable jogging suit that he ordered from a tailor in Dorne. This very expensive talented man makes all of his clothing now. The first of his naughty children were staggering across the green expanse. Sandor and Arya must have spent most of the night moving into their new rooms.

Arya looked like someone murdered her favorite pet or lover and this made Gregor inhale deeply in satisfaction. Of course she will be loyal and kept in line. Gregor did not make a mistake, of course not. He will spend some time training her himself if need be. Because if he was wrong, that meant Tywin was wrong. That was not possible of course.

A few moments later the Barracks began to leak hungover and well fucked boys. "I am glad to see you are all on time. I am also glad to see that you boys took my advice. Did you have a good time? Raff, is she still alive or did you let them all fuck her to death?" Gregor grumbled as they all fell into a line before him.

Raff dared not smile, but he nodded slightly. "Yes Sir. She is still alive. I plan to keep her that way. She won't ever be a behavior problem, Sir." Gregor stuck his face in Raff's. "That is excellent to hear. I am very happy for you, Raff. I had spent all fucking year staying awake at night wondering what the fuck to give you for your birthday!"

Raff turned red and wisely shut up. Gregor walked down the line heading for Polivar. "Did you have a good night? I heard you crashed a party and got to really let loose. Got that adrenaline out after almost losing your fucking pecker, right? Was it good? And what the fuck did I see going past the window this morning? What the fuck is that fat thing doing in the barracks? What is it? Did you forget to ask me if you could have a pet? Or did you ask me and I was too busy jerking off to hear you? Huh? WHO THE FUCK IS HE?"

Polivar tried to resist, he knows better but blurted out, "He isn't anyone! I just kept him so-" The large hand had hold of his groin and was squeezing, causing him to whimper and cry helplessly. "I don't give a fuck! He runs or bothers Tywin and you kill him! What the fuck were you thinking last night? Huh? Who the fuck are you to deliver MY LESSONS to anyone? You ever do that again, I'll rip your cock off myself!"

Gregor snarled and spit his words into Polivar's face along with the smell of eggs, coffee, a generous helping of spittle. "Remember your fucking place or I'll put you so far below it, your job will be carrying Cersei's fucking purse at the mall." Gregor shoved Polivar back after hearing the muttered apology.

He turned to glare at Tickler and Dusten. You two have a good time, huh? Really get that last bit of hell-raising out? I really fucking hope so, I hope it is worth it. Just couldn't resist a good old fashioned fight could you? I understand it, boys, I really do. What I don't understand is why you went where I FUCKING TOLD YOU NOT TO GO?"

One meaty hand landed on Dusten's shoulder and one on Tickler's. Gregor began to slowly squeeze as he spoke. "I'm hurt, boys. I'm shattered inside. I thought we had an understanding of how things worked. I thought you could obey my orders and stay out of trouble with the boys we may have to slaughter soon. Did you just have to play with your food, was it something like that? It's my fault. I care so much about you that I just didn't enforce my rules enough. I guess its time to take the velvet gloves off, take off your underoos and teach you to be real big boys with BIG BOY PANTS THAT CAN OBEY FUCKING ORDERS!"

Tickler and Dusten were shrinking down, whining in agony as Gregor was on the verge of dislocating their shoulders. Whether due to pain or smarts, both stayed very silent. He released them and strolled over to Arya and Sandor.

"Well, look the main cast of Dumb and Dumber Cunts have decided to join us this morning. Because even though they might not live in the barracks, they are MY men, the same as all of you. And the same as all of you, they fucked up last night. So here we are. My own brother couldn't keep track of his own charge, nor the girl he mentors. Then he drove Polivar to a bloodbath and left not just with Polivar and Arya but a fucking pet too! You sat there and watched him kill those boys. You lost your charges, found them and deserted them at a battle! What the fuck is wrong with you, boy?"

Sandor grunted when Gregor grabbed his long hair and yanked his head back. He knew how much Sandor hated being stared at into his bare face. All the hair was pulled away, revealing the gruesome pink and white twisted skin and tissue. "You BEGGED me for a chance, didn't you? Huh? I stuck my neck out, my reputation out for you. This is how you repay it? By fucking up, ignoring protocol and orders? By trying hiding your protege's disobedience? Let it happen one more time and I'll start to doubt your loyalty to me, Sandor. Hear me, little brother?" Sandor was red and blinking rapidly. "Yes. I'm loyal, Gregor."

Shoving his brother away, Gregor loomed over Arya. "You little shit. A recruit that DARES to disobey so blatantly? You have nearly killed yourself to try and become one of us then you almost threw it all away over a fucking pot party? Were you BORED on your one night off? You couldn't just rest, go for a fucking walk, meditate, masturbate, watch a fucking show on your television? Your dead friends are on  you as much as on Polivar and Sandor. So the three of you will have an extra surprise for our little session today."

He gave them all a mean grin then pulled a small black silk box out. Tickler knew what it was as the box flipped open and he turned gray.

"Drop trou!" Gregor roared and in pure misery, they all lowered their pants and underwear. Arya was nearly purple with shame but no one was looking at her. At least not after Gregor ordered them to each grab their ankles. Gregor walked behind all the bared asses and spoke.

"You all had so much fun last night that I was concerned about your energy level this morning. I want each of you to be at your best, show me how you are all in good shape. So this is an incentive. Tickler is already crying and that should tell you something special is coming. I am about to insert ginger root into your asses. It is going to really give you the need to get moving. Except for Polivar, Sandor and Arya. They are getting special ginger roots, dipped in my favorite rectal infusion sauce. I expect an amazing work out from you three."

The boys with ginger root stuffed into their tight assholes were experiencing hell. The itch was unreachable and maddening. It made them move all right in hopes of somehow easing their torment. Instead the movements only increased the terrible itch inside of them.

For the three with the dipped ginger root, they were beyond hell. The itching and the burning seemed to grow stronger than each other in waves. They did sit ups, they did jumping jacks, they jogged, they leaped and ran through an obstacle course then they got back into the grass to do push ups. Polivar lost control first by trying to scoot his ass in the grass, desperate for some relief. Gregor shocked him with a cattle prod. 

Before they were done, Gregor has given everyone at least one shock. For not keeping up, for laying down and sobbing, for daring to beg him to offer mercy. Finally, he let them collapse, squirming into the grass, covered in sweat, panting, their aching muscles twitching.

"Now...there will be new orders for all during this time. Arya and Sandor will be working and lodging with Tywin and Tyrion Lannister. Dusten, you will be Cersei's new shadow. Tickler, you shall be watching Joff and Sansa. Raff, you shall watch Tommen and stay away from the women, hear me? Polivar, you shall patrol both homes as well as patrol the church and cemetery the family shall be at. No one has questions. Now go and pull yourselves together. You all look like pathetic worms squirming about. Good luck getting rid of your itches, children."

In desperation and humiliation Sandor and Arya ran for the hose, yanking their pants down. All of them found themselves huddled in desperation. Using their fingers to dig the ginger root out and the hose to recieve relief. It was only after they sighed and started to walk away, that the sensations began again. As they would do all day long.   


	36. Cease Fire

Cersei has barely finished her mimosa when the terrible news came via Varys on the phone. She groaned and put her head down, rubbing her temples with her fingers. "May I refresh your drink for you?" Nodding, Cersei raised her head and stared dully at Sansa. "Do you know why I find you tolerable, dear? Why I don't mind you marrying my son? Because of the Tyrells. Now..had I met you as Joff's fiance before I met Margeary fucking Tyrell, I would have despised you."

Sansa sat back down and gave her usual tiny smile. "Well, than I am glad you met me after. Are these Tyrell's coming to the services?" Cersei took a large swallow of her drink before she replied.

"Oh yes, Olenna couldn't wait to hurry here to share my fucking tragedy. The Tyrells share status, trade and business with our family. So my father had originally betrothed Joff to that fucking perfect little snake, Margeary Tyrell. They are a fucking team of vipers, that family. Wait until you meet them, dear. Olenna is the matriarch and she is dried up old biddy that thinks she is clever. Her grandchildren, the fucking wonder twins, they would have given Anne Boleyn a run for her money for court fuckery. I think Olenna's grandchildren are fucking vampires. They certainly seem to suck the life out of anyone they come in contact with. And here is the sickening part, Loras married Renly, Robert's brother, he only lived long enough for the insurance policies to kick in. A fucking lobbyist for all sorts of green, hippie shit that doesn't matter but still Robert's little brother. Margeary, almost married my son and the thought still makes me sick!"

Joff snorted and hissed, "Can you lower your fucking voice, mother? I have a fucking hangover, you know how those are, don't you? Now please give me one of your percs you hide in your damned purse and lower your voice." His reddened eyes glared at his over-dramatic mother. Cersei gave Joff a look of stone.

"How do you know what is in my purse? You have no right to go through my personal effects. I'm still alive, remember? You are living in my house and you will show me respect or leave it all behind. I will NOT be treated this way by you..as if you were HIM. Take off his damned rings!" Joff slowly began to stand up and lean over the table. Tommen shrank down into the seat, nearly curled into a ball. Sansa sensed by his focused rage that if she dared to interfere, he would hurt her physically, perhaps badly.

Sansa knew when not to push a man and she kept her mouth shut. Eyes wide, watching for the very second that the shark was no longer searching for the meal. So she can dive in and save a woman she despises, worships, hates and needs. Joff was in his mother's face and Cersei was shocked beyond belief. How fucking DARE he? "For now on, YOU will show ME respect, mother. I am the man of the house now and you are going to listen to MY orders. Now. Shut. The. Fuck. Up. Bitch."

Each word of the last sentence was spit into her face and Cersei's hand cracked against Joff's face. The look on his face was chilling and Cersei sucked in her breath, he looked as if he would kill her. Sansa thought so too and  knew she had no choice but to intervene.

They all moved at the same moment. Cersei jumped out of her hair and Joff tossed the table out of his way to reach her. Tommen crawled into a corner and Sansa threw herself on the ground at Joff's side. Like a cheesy heroine novel from those books she used to love reading, Sansa grabbed onto Joff's leg just as he grabbed his mother's throat.

"Please! Joff, please, we cannot have anymore deaths so soon! It would be very suspicious. She didn't mean it! Look at her tears, her face, Joff, she loves you and she is sorry! Please...she is afraid, she is your mother and never meant to hurt you. She understands to obey you now, she does, just look at her! Please, Joff!" Panting, staring at his mother, Joff growled into his mother's face, "If you EVER hit me again, I'll personally cut off your fucking hand. You are very lucky that my fiance is Sansa because Margeary would have cheered me on as I strangled you."

Sansa sagged down and when Joff released his mother's throat and stormed out of the room. Cersei's coughed and sat on the floor while Sansa knelt and Tommen cowered. "The king is dead, long live the king." Cersei rasped out bitterly. With a small emotionless laugh Sansa replied, "We have to hide my face and your neck. The least your husband could have done was teach his son how to abuse a woman in ways that won't show. My father could give him lessons."

"Bring me more coffee." Bristling silently, Arya brought Tywin more coffee and ignored the aching in her body and ass. They had to shower and begin work right after Gregor's punishment. Not everyone, however, no it seemed that Raff has time off and he grinned cheerfully at Arya as he walked away. "I hope your ass itches like crazy every-time you try and fuck your new pet." She had managed to sweetly say to him before Sandor had dragged her away.

This was insulting. So far her job has consisted of following silently watching for danger. Now she was pouring coffee and fetching items while Sandor stood against a wall like a damned statue. However demeaning it was, Arya kept following orders without hesitation. Her face was kept bland, her eyes stayed down as she served.

"I have a lunch date that you will both accompany myself and Gregor on. I expect silence and complete loyal obedience, is that understood?" Arya and Sandor nodded and said, "Yes Sir!" at the same time. Tywin gave a slight look of pain at it and then he sat at the desk. He began to type again and they both became part of the wallpaper.

Raff woke the girl by running his baton along the bars of the cage making a hellish clatter. With a muffled scream, the girl scrambled and crouched very low to the ground as far from where Raff was. Laughing, he began to unlatch the cage and he beckoned to her, like a dog. He tapped the baton against his leg. "Here, Jeyne."

With a whimper of terror, Jeyne began to inch forward, her stomach and chest dragging on the ground. She hesitated at the opening of the cage. "Good girl. You have permission to come out."

He knelt down in front of the cowering girl and yanked her face up with his hand on her small chin. Raff showed her his wire cutters. "Now. Have you learned not to speak without permission?" Jeyne whimpered and nodded timidly. Her eyes stared downwards and Raff smiled. "Look at me, sweetheart. Don't you like your Master? Aren't I pretty enough for you?" Jeyne's eyes flew up and it he smiled at the sight of those terrified doe eyes. "You are prettier this way, you know. Fear, submission and pain suit you. I'm going to take your wire out and you will stay very still and be grateful for it."

Gregor entered the Barracks and stared at HotPie. "What the fuck are you wearing, boy?" Hotpie scrambled to his feet from where he was scrubbing the cabinets. "Sorry, Sir. I..this is what Polivar gave me to wear." Gregor wrinkled his nose, narrowed his eyes and leaned closer. "You stink like a pig. A real one. You aren't a REAL pig, right? Go fucking shower. Tell Polivar I said you are allowed to shower once a day and you must wear shorts and a PLAIN shirt. You can remind him that I said Tywin might stop by and how would that look? And you belong to Polivar, correct? He spared your life and took it, claimed you for service, correct?"

Swallowing hard, cringing into the wall, HotPie nodded. "Yes Sir."Gregor nodded and said slowly as if speaking to an idiot, "Then he owns you. You will be respectful and call him Master, not Polivar. Understand me?" "Yes Sir. I will call him Master. I will go shower. I will tell him all you said, Sir."

Snorting with disgust, Gregor moved away and went to find Raff. He gave one knock then pushed the door open. Raff had the girl in his lap, giving her sips of water. Her lips and surrounding skin were raw, red and covered in tiny gashes, some bleeding. The rest of her looked just as wrecked and she looked as if she would smell as bad as that boy did.

"I shall have Qyburn come look at her. That boy down there must take on everyone's chores. So this girl can take care of your chores, both up here and the common room chores that are yours. No sense having idle hands when her only job would be on her back. And both that boy and this one must shower and wear appropriate clothes to not insult Tywin. Shorts and a shirt will suffice. Finish up with caring for the girl, I want your two deliveries picked up today." Raff nodded and gave a grin that made Jeyne flinch and whimper softly.


	37. The King Is Dead. Long Live The King.

The Lannisters had Varys arrange everything and it was done the Southern way. Flamboyant and fast. In the South, in the heat, things don't last as long. No one wants to spend long hours cooped in a church then stand in the heat sweating into expensive hated clothing. At least ten folks will drop of heat stroke before a body is buried if it takes too long. So within a day and a half, there was a funeral service and burial. A huge coffin for Robert and a small white coffin for Myrcella. It was gruesome to see and yet media was all too happy to photo it while cringing.

Cersei and Sansa wore black hats with with long lace veils and kept their heads down as if with grief. Cersei wore a lovely black choker on her neck and Sansa had made sure her sleeves were long and the black dress touched her ankles. Every piece of her that Joff had pinched or bitten or bruised. After she had saved Cersei, Sansa didn't think Joff would take out that anger on her. Oh but he did. Joff waited all day, until it was nearly bedtime. She was tired after helping Cersei plan on how to hide their injuries and how to help Cersei evade the Tyrells.

Entering her room, Sansa never even saw Joff until it was too late. He shoved her then locked her door. "Do you think you are fucking cute? You beg for my mother's life then instead of thanking me properly, you spend all fucking day with her? Planning and plotting just like her and your cunt of a mother? Do you plan to be like them? Because let me show you how I'll treat you just like I know they are treated. In fact, I might actually be a little worse." Sansa backed away and scrambled to her feet, trying to keep her distance. "I'm sorry, you are right. I was ungrateful. Please, I'll apologize, I'll...get in my bed for you right now. Please...let me beg your forgiveness properly."

Shaking his head with a little laugh, Joff gave her a cute little wrinkle of his nose. "That sounds so nice. And exactly what my mother would say. Try again, it's amusing. Go on." He started to unbuckle his belt then slowly began pulling it off to wrap around his hand. Sansa gasped and stood straight up to look pleadingly into Joff's eyes. "Please, I am truly sorry and I will accept my punishment, but please, not this way. I have to appear in public, Joff. I can't hide anymore injuries! Degrade and humiliate me, rape me or I'll blow you if you want but just don't beat me anymore. At least just not until the services are all done with. I am begging you."

"Aaaannd there was your mother. You even acted like her, which I fucking despise. If I ever hear or see you act like your ice cunt mother again, I'll let every man in the Barracks fuck you. I don't want you acting like either of them, Sansa. If I hear or see you acting like my bitch mother again, I'll let Gregor himself fuck you. Look at my eyes, I'm not lying. Look how hard I get just from the mere fucking thought of watching your misery and pain as you got gang-banged. Of how you will look when Gregor dislocates or fractures half of your body raping you. Do you believe me, Sansa?" Joff was swinging the belt as he leisurely paced as he spoke. Sansa's voice was so careful, it was small dainty feet stepping on jagged glass, trying to not slip on the blood.

"I believe you, Joff. I won't act like them anymore. I'm scared, I'm fucking terrified of you right now. Okay..this is all honest plain me. I can't even think of an amusing quip to fend you off with. I just meant to help you and your mother, your family, that was all. I'm sorry I didn't apologize, I really am. It won't happen again. I swear I'm loyal to you, I will do as you wish, Joff, I am on your side."

Sansa shook and felt utterly naked before him even though she wore a nightgown and robe. "That is better. I enjoy your amusing quips and your little challenges will still be welcome. But behind closed doors or in public, you will never overrule me, you will never be anything but what I want you to be. You will show me gratitude for anything I offer you whether it's correction or reward. Do you hear me?"

"Yes, yes, I hear you." Sansa felt tears on her face and thought, oh, this was only the start. If she breaks already she won't survive this marriage. Bend, don't break, bend, she thought to herself. Joff cracked the belt into his hand and she jumped which made him give a nasty giggle.

"Good. I am glad that is all cleared up now. Let's move on to your punishment for not being grateful and thankful earlier. For closeting yourself away all day, ignoring my texts to be with my mother without my permission. For now on you'll give me a full schedule of everywhere you wish to go and I'll approve it or not. Get naked then I want you to grab the bed post, hug it. If you argue, if you do anything but what I just told you to do, I'm going to use a cane instead."

Sansa let out a small sob but she nodded. Removing her robe and nightgown, she obeyed. He beat her from her back downward to her calves. Then he made her turn around and strapped her breasts, arms, stomach and legs before allowing Sansa to lay in his bed. As she sobbed and begged forgiveness, Joff began to pinch, slap and bite her all over before forcing himself into her tormented body. She cried out which only made Joff go harder. He punched her arm then yanked her hair. "If you aren't screaming, I must not be keeping your attention."

Sansa screamed as Joff bit hard enough to fill his mouth with blood, leaving a permanent scar upon her left breast. "Please, please, Joff, I'm not resisting, please stop hurting me! Please, stop!" Her screams made Joff give four more thrusts that Sansa knew tore her before he whined and released himself into her.

He lay there on top of her until he caught his breath then stood up and calmly dressed. Sansa didn't dare move or speak. "Things are going to change around here." Joff said and Sansa replied, "Yes, Joff." Nodding, he smirked at her damaged body and asked, "I assume I'll have no need to call the men for a treat anytime soon? Or Gregor?"

She tried to speak again but could only manage to shake her head and sob. "Do you remember I told you to be thankful and grateful for everything? Even punishments?" Joff asked and Sansa gasped. "Yes! Yes, sorry! I am grateful for your discipline and...for your attention, Joff. Thank you for taking the time to instruct me."

Smirking in triumph, Joff left the room, tossing over his shoulder, "I have every confidence that you really will be a good wife for me, Sansa." Shoving her head into the pillow, Sansa screamed her rage, pain and humiliation.

Now she stood in a receiving line next to Cersie and Joff, accepting meaningless words. Sansa treated her own family the same as everyone else. This earned her a small reward from Joff. He took his hand off the worst of the bruising lines from his belt on her back. She managed to whisper her thanks while never missing a beat.

Joff smiled and actually treated the next few folks nicely. Both Cersei and Sansa were hurting physically and emotionally. And this made it easy for them to simply let Joff do as he wishes, to not dare intervene. What would he do for it, would he even injure them in public? Would he kill his own mother or fiance?

The Tyrells could almost sense the weakening and they swept into the funeral home as if they could all hear the same theme song with them. Joff leaned closer to Sansa and whispered, "You will not rescue my mother with whatever plans she has created with you." Sansa instantly looked at those cruel eyes and smiled. "Yes, Joff. I only wish to do what you ask of me."

She quickly saw how close to her mother's words that sounded and continued. "Sorry, Mr.Manderly was leaning too close to me. Forgive me for sounding stiff like that. I will not rescue your mother. I only want to be with you, please. Until I can learn to be everything you wish me to be, I need your guidance. I want to please you, Joff."

Cat had come back around, weaving her way behind the chairs, hoping to have a word with her rather subdued daughter. She heard every word of their exchange. The words and that tone wasn't at all like her strong daughter. The shoulders were slightly pinched inward in fear and pain, the entire look was one Cat knew well. It was the look of a wife well beaten by her husband, trying to hide it. What worried Cat the most was how it was Sansa's entire self covered in black. What the hell has Joff done to her? And this was only as her fiance? What would happen once they married?

Even more worrisome was how Cersie was also covering herself up. The woman had never worn a choker before, Cersei told Cat she found them tacky. And why both women seem to be letting Joff act and speak however rudely he wishes to whomever he wishes? Cersei was not someone who allowed such things.

Cat was done, she was tired and sick with grief mixed with bitter hatred. That was all she could take. This wedding was off one way or another. She will talk to Ned about it tonight, see if there is anything to be done. Once she explains about how abused their daughter is, he will surely agree. It makes Cat wonder what is happening with Arya.

Before Cat could look for her daughter, she saw the Tyrells come in and in spite of herself, she had to watch for a moment.


	38. Thanks For The Child Bride, Asshole

Sandor and Arya stood against the wall in the tiny restaurant. In front of them were Gregor and Tywin. Across from them was Roose Bolton who's own son was pressed deeply into his wall as if half asleep. His hair certainly looked as if he had been dragged from his bed. Next to Roose stood Walder Frey, who's own son was dozing into his piece of the wall.

Arya had been the first to check out the place when they got there and it was empty. No staff at all, just a janitor who had turned on the heat and lights then left. At first Arya was somewhat intrigued thinking she was about to be privy to something exciting. 

Instead it was listening to decrepit old men discuss numbers and names she didn't even comprehend. Then somehow things shifted, the first clue was when Walder nodded at his son and the sleepy boy came back with a heavy set, scared girl a bit older than Arya. Oh, and a fucking Septon came in.

Now it was interesting again and no one looked tired or bored any longer. Arya exchanged fast looks with Sandor. A secret wedding? One that the Starks cannot know about? Then Petyr Baelish entered the room and Arya was really interested. He spoke quietly with the older men and no matter how much Arya strained she couldn't hear them.

Moments later as the heavyset girl was crying while her father seemed to be threatening her, Arya became more interested than ever. That was when Gregor was pulling Arya from the wall. He pushed her over to the men and she still didn't understand. Neither did Ramsay until his father pulled him forward, whispering in his ear. Ramsay's eyes widened and his father was holding him tightly by the throat to stop the cursing he knew was coming.

Petyr looked at Arya and gave a small smirk. "You don't understand yet do you, dear? Let me help. As you know, your mother was the one who allowed me to give all your records to Tywin so you can continue school and medical care. I took a few liberties and had some papers drawn up that declared her legally giving you to Tywin as your guardian. He is giving you permission on this piece of paper right here for you to legally marry."

"Wh...what?" Arya couldn't understand why Gregor was holding her shoulder, why Roose was strangling Ramsay and why was Petyr saying these things. "I'm only in high school. I can't marry. Sansa is marrying Joff, you have the wrong girl, Uncle Petyr." It was how mother always wanted her to address him and she never bothered to until now. Arya could just see Sandor and how pale and shocked he looked, how sympathetic he looked.

It started to become more real and she turned to stare at Tywin. "You said I could be one of Gregor's company!" Tywin raised his eyebrow and gave an amused smirk. "And you are one of his company. It will be a marriage in name only and one that is to stay in secret for now. The only wedding your parents will know of is of Roose Bolton to Walda Frey."

Ramsay was listening to Tywin and Roose was slowly allowing the boy to breathe again. "I do not believe in leaving things to chance, children. Solidifying pacts is best when there is a marriage involved. If something happens and we need your marriage to be more than backup paperwork, we shall inform you. But you two will be married immediately."

"Thanks for the child bride, father. Just what I never wanted." Ramsay snarled and Roose coldly backhanded him. "But you do want Reek, don't you? Because I know how much Robb would love to have him." Wiping blood off his chin, Ramsay glared at his father then walked towards Arya Stark. "Get it fucking done with." He growled but Arya wasn't having any of it. "Wait! I can't marry him! Oh my gods, he is my oldest brother's age! Sir, please! I just wanted to be-"

Tywin sighed and gave Gregor the slightest of nods. Gregor turned with the girl under his arm and left the room. As soon as the door shut behind him, he threw Arya up against the wall. Lifting her by her neck, Gregor got in her face as Arya wondered foolishly why the neck seems to be the target for everyone?

"Do you want to contest it? Go ahead, I'll take you back in to do so. Then you will have lost all usefulness to Tywin. I'll break your legs in front of them so you can clearly see that no one will care what happens to you. I wonder how long you will last as my little fuck toy? Considering how angry I'll be at your failure....I would try and make it last as painfully long as I could."

Gregor waited until he saw the horror of it all kick in, waited to see that she understood how there was no way out. "You wanted to be something else besides a Stark brood mare. Did you think any other family would treat you any differently? You will have it easier than your sister. You are allowed to stay in our company, you will continue to work and never have to see him as a husband. It is only another little secret you can forget happened unless you are told otherwise. Unless you are ready to give up and become my pet?"

Five minutes later a softly weeping Walda married the indifferent Roose. Five minutes after that Ramsay and Arya stared daggers at the man who forced them to repeat vows. Arya felt sorry for Walda, her marriage was getting consummated. She shuddered along with Ramsay as they wrote their names. Sandor and Gregor signed as witnesses.Then they all left as if nothing significant had happened as if no lives had been changed. Roose left with Walda and Locke. Tywin left with Walder and his son as well as with Sandor.

"Oh no no..." Ramsay started as Gregor pulled out his phone. "You and Arya are coming with me to a lovely little place not far from here. I think you know what needs to happen a least once, right? And Ramsay, before you think to start with the threats, your father left orders for your pet to be taken out of the house this morning. He is all dressed and ready for the services. At a room at the very motel we are going to visit. And I will give you the key to the room as soon as you do what I need you to do."

Gregor had each of them by the neck and dragging them fast to the car. He shoved Arya into the front seat of the car then Ramsay into the back. "You have become a fucking pimp, you know that right?" Ramsay snarled as he kept trying to text both his father and his pet to no avail. Arya sat numbly in the seat and stared at Gregor as he drove.

"I thought it was only on paper. In secret. Not..active marriage."  Arya was feeling less in control and smaller every second. "It is only once, girl. That way no one can dissolve it. One time and I'll take you back home to rest. You will be excused from all duties work and social obligations today."

Ramsay snorted. "Since when does a girl need a whole day to get over a little sex?" Arya turned to glare at him. "Since the girl just found out today she is married to a fucking sadist. Who keeps a human as a fuck toy and torture pet? Or how about the fact that you are known for hunting, raping and flaying women. Yeah, I might just need the day off after this. Wait..he isn't allowed to hurt me like that is he?" Leaning closer with a menacing smile, Ramsay threatened the scared girl. "Well, if you know that I am that dangerous then it's sort of stupid to antagonize me?"

Gregor's huge hand shoved Ramsay's face away and then he grumbled out, "Ramsay is going to fuck you, not fuck you up. I am going to be right outside the door. If he starts to pull out a blade or begins to injure you, just let me know. But Ramsay isn't going to be that stupid, not while his loving pet is waiting nearby. Not if he wants to keep his pet at the end of the day."

He pulled into a parking lot and led the two of them to a room in the very back of the nondescript motel. Unlocking the door and checking inside first, Gregor pulled the reluctant couple inside. He shut the door then made sure all the windows were carefully covered.

He walked over to Arya casually and put one hand on her shoulder. "Remember, I am right outside the room." "Ouch! Shit!" Arya cried out as Gregor capped the syringe. "What...what is that? Why? I was obeying!" Gregor grinned and helped the nervous girl to sit down on the edge of the bed. "Calm down. It's just something to help you relax. Just to make this a little easier for you. It is a gift from Petyr, I think he feels just a little guilty, the fucking weasel. So just take a little rest and let Ramsay do what he needs to."

Ramsay laughed and Gregor was suddenly in his face. "She might be a uppity little brat but she is one of my people. Do you hear me? You do what you need to and leave. If I find a single fucking injury on MY brat, I'm going to leave injuries on your pet and you." Gregor slammed out of the room and they heard the door lock.

Arya was feeling fuzzy and she lay back on the bed. "Okay...this isn't so bad..he should've given you some of this shit, Ramsay. How the fuck will this work? I mean...no offense but I don't look anything like your Reek. Hey, I should get points with you for that! Unlike my stupid brother, I can say the new name you gave that...pet of yours."

"Are you a virgin?" Ramsay asked as he started to remove Arya's clothes. He had to admit this was at the least, absurdly amusing. Arya snorted. "No. Been sleeping with Gendry on and off for like...a year. Always used condoms though. You are going to use a condom, right? No...lemme guess..they didn't leave us any...they SUCK!" Ramsay chuckled and put his hand over Arya's mouth.

"Shut up or the jolly fucking giant will be in here thinking I'm killing you." He finished taking her clothing off and stared at her body. Arya yawned and stretched giving Ramsay a full view. "You are sixteen, not like...thirteen or something, right?" Normally Arya would be insulted but right now it was funny. "Always got accused of looking and acting like a boy. Well, maybe that makes it easier for you?" 

Ramsay narrowed his eyes. "I really wish Gregor left me a gag for you. Maybe we should give your mouth something else to do." Arya smirked then said, "I'll bite your dick off if you stick it in my mouth. Just warning you." "Oh really? Do you like sex rough, Arya?" Ramsay asked as he crouched over her.

"Take your clothes off and come find out." Arya snickered and found that she was squirming a little. "Oh shit.." Ramsay started to laugh again. "He gave you something that works as an aphrodisiac. Yeah...let's find out if you like rough sex, something tells me you do."  They snarled and wrestled and fucked as if they were killing each other. And indeed, Arya discovered she enjoyed it quite rough.

Ramsay left right after and Gregor took Arya back to the Lannister estate. He guided her into her room and into her bed where she instantly fell asleep. When Gregor got to the services, Ramsay was shaking Tywin's hand in the reception area as if he had not seen him earlier. Roose was there and was speaking to Ned. Petyr and Varys seemed to be in a small disagreement and Gregor frowned at them until they took it somewhere more private.

Seeing the Tyrells, Gregor smiled. That young girl had ass and tits that never quit and during Joff's time with her, Gregor had fucked her at least four times. He hopes that Margeary will be available again but not tonight. No...tonight is Gregor's one monthly relaxation treat to himself. He won't cancel that even for someone like that fancy piece of ass. He leaned against the wall and watched to see if his men were with their charges and doing their correct jobs.  


	39. Unexpected Allies

Cersei flung herself in front of her husband's coffin to pray into her fists. "Oh, you fat fucker! The one thing, the only thing that has ever made me miss you is here. The only courtesy you had ever done for me was get Olenna and her fucking brood out of my life. Now here they are and as usual you are useless to me." Even though the room was semi dark, a large yawning black horror was felt sucking Cersei from behind.

A voice came from behind her and Cersei fantasized about crawling into her husbands coffin with him, muttering about needing some alone time.

"Now dear this is simply pathetic of you. Not a single person here would believe you would miss that bloated sack you called husband. You should have knelt next to the little girl's coffin. That would be believable. Now I will offer true sympathies for that little child's death. It is terrible when a child dies, regardless of the circumstances. Too bad the girl didn't take after you and less like her father. She would have been a slut but at least a live one."

Cersei gracefully began to rise preparing herself to break the elderly cunt's face. Might as well go down in a big way at this point and then Cersei heard a dry voice. Defending her. She stood and turned to see Cat standing in Olenna's face. "How different your Southern customs are to us. It truly sounded as if you were actually taunting a woman made widow? That you were defaming her poor dead daughter? But I am sure I was mistaken. Was I? Or shall I have you escorted out?"

Then Cersei had to shake her head and wonder if her ears worked right. Because Cat Stark suddenly lowered her tone and the smile was gone. "Or perhaps I should kick your decrepit ass out the door myself. Not a single woman here wouldn't hesitate to help me. You are worse than Southern, then an unwanted guest. You are a woman without any conscience whatsoever. To publicly shame a woman over her dead ones coffins? To do it to a mother over her child? There is never a reason to do such a thing. Get your tacky ass out of my way."

Shocked, Cersei allowed Cat to take her arm and walk her away. "Well, Ned will be all over me in ten minutes once that reaches him. We might as well try and take cover while we can." The women found themselves nearly running like two little girls hiding from angry fathers. By the time Ned and Tywin were looking for them, they were already hiding in a small storage room. Luckily, there was no end of wine back there and two grieving mothers found their own holy absolution.

Sansa was staring at the wonder twins. They were simply gorgeous, truly stunning in looks, charming and too amazing to be real. Margeary wound herself around Joff and Sansa actually saw unease in Joff's eyes. How interesting. Two moments later Sansa had her hand being kissed by a slender god that was clearly not interested in women.

Yet Sansa sensed he will have a ton of girls chasing him anyway along with men. "Joff, we came as soon as we heard the terrible news. I am so sorry, dearest friend." Joff extracted himself as if trying to escape a deadly snake. He saw Sansa out of the corner of his eye and that seemed to help. 

"Get off me, Margeary. Here, meet my fiance Sansa Stark. Loras, I'm not shaking your fucking hand." Joff moved so he was on the other side of Sansa, he grabbed onto her wrist with a bruising intensity. "Say hello, Sansa." Seeing some pain and fear in her eyes made him feel better. Margeary and Loras greeted Sansa kindly as if Joff wasn't hurting her enough for tears to be in those large eyes. "Joff, why don't you and Loras chat? I need your fiance to show me to the ladies room."

Sansa glanced at Joff but he shook his head. "Oh no...I don't need you sinking your claws into Sansa. She doesn't need any of your fucking lessons. I just got it through her head not be like our mothers. Won't have you teaching her any of your tricks." Pouting, Margeary replied, "But Joff, you like all my tricks, remember?" Joff turned red and yanked Sansa, walking away. Loras chuckled and led his sister towards the exit. "This is too boring. Let's see if any of the boys are at the Barracks, heard they have a nice new little house of their own here. They are our best bet for good drugs in a place like this."

Polivar heard the knock at the door and tilted his head. He grinned when he saw the twins and let them in. "Hey, get kicked out of the funeral? Looking to score? From who, me or Raff? If it's Gregor you are hoping for Margeary, he is busy tonight. I'm around for you though, sweetheart." Loras grinned at Polivar as his sister continued onward into the other rooms.

"No honey...someday she might take you up on it though. I want to score from you. I brought my boy with me, he is at the motel." Shoving Loras away from him, Polivar hollered. "PIGGY!" Margeary and Loras watched as a heavyset boy in short and a t shirt came nearly falling down the hall.

The boy panted to a halt in front of Polivar. "Yes Master?" Grinning, Polivar kicked at him. "You are going to have a heart attack. If you puke from running again, I'll make you lick it up. Now go upstairs and bring me down the little black safe I showed you earlier." "The one you told me to never touch, Master?" Polivar whacked Hotpie hard on his ear. "Now I am telling you to touch it and bring it to me! Now go!" He turned and saw the twins glaring at him. "What?" Shaking his head, Loras led his sister as they followed Polivar to the kitchen. A moment later the boy was back and handed over the safe.

"Get our guests beer. Are you fucking stupid, don't just stand there staring at her!" Polivar gave a kick to Hotpie's ass as the boy tried to turn and obey. The kick was just enough to trip Hotpie's feet and he went down with a thunderous sound. Polivar laughed but the twins did not. They both stood to help the boy back to his feet. Then Margeary smiled kindly upon the boy. "What is your name? I'm Margeary and that is my brother Loras." Hotpie stared and stuttered, "Uh..Piggy." Shaking her head Margeary gently tried again. "Not the name Polivar calls you by, what is your real first name?" Hotpie nearly hyperventilated and gave a terrified glance at Polivar.

"Oh for fucks sake, just tell her what your first name is." Polivar snapped as he continued to sort through his box of goodies. "Hotpie. I..it is what my uncle and grandparents always called me. Don't know what the real birth name was, sorry." Margeary smiled. "Well, my brother and I will call you Hotpie then. Thank you for getting us beer. Take your time and don't hurt yourself, dear." Polivar rolled his eyes. "Oh my gawd...want to go butter up Raff's new pet too?" Margeary looked over at Polivar with alarm. "He brings his work home now? Isn't that a dangerous idea?"

"It would be. No, this pet was sort of a gift from Gregor to Raff. Some fucking Bolton guy's mouthy girl who kept trying to stab Raff with a fork at a bar. She got the blame for a shitload of trouble." Loras went to grab his sister's arm. "Now, sis...don't go up there. You know better than that. Look, take your beer and sit down. Aww..come on..don't. Why couldn't you have just lied and not told her the truth for once? You know how upset she gets." Polivar laughed. "The girl is in the hallway behind the stairs. I think she is scrubbing the floors. Raff is on the phone somewhere around here."

Margeary walked into the hallway and found a frail, tiny looking girl on her hands and knees, weakly washing the floor. At her approach, the girl shrunk lower and scuttled into a corner. "Don't be scared...I won't hurt you. I just want to know your name." The girl pressed her face into the wall and shook harder. Covered in wounds and clearly traumatized, the girl wouldn't speak even after Margeary introduced herself. Raff's voice came floating from another room. "She won't answer you. Her name is Jeyne. She only speaks with permission. Come here, Jeyne."

With a small whine of fear, the girl unwillingly pulled out of the corner. She crawled low to the ground past Margeary. Raff was just heading into the hallway and Jeyne crawled to his foot, groveling silently. Raff paid no attention to the girl but grinned at Margeary's upset. "Aww...don't get so sore at me, honey. Look, she is alive, I haven't even cut off any pieces. You appreciated my talents when your brother was lonely, or when your grandmother needed new staff, remember?" Margeary sniffed and headed for the kitchen. "My brother treats his boy like a pampered pet. And all Tyrell servants are cared for wonderfully. I hate how you and the others treat..your products."

"Slaves is the word you are looking for. These aren't from my stock, so stop feeling so bad for them. Polivar let this fat one live when he massacred his his buddies. Merciful, considering...and this girl was given to me. She is a bit of a feral...I could've done so much worse to her, Marge...you know that. You've seen..and you've seen Polivar do worse too. Look, they even have leather collars, you know I always use prongs on my "products". So stop bitching and snort a line with me." Margeary huffed but gave in.


	40. Holy Wine And Honest Liars

Cersei took another swig of wine and asked, "Honestly, you don't have an Olenna counterpart floating about here in the North?" Cat grimaced as she took another swallow. "Sure we do but we call him Walder Frey. Though even he isn't that bad, to say such things out loud at a service. Walder would whisper it softly into your ear as they lowered the coffin into the ground." The women stared at each other and started to giggle.

After a moment, Cat said softly, "I envy you. For becoming a widow. Sad, that. If I could have thrown my husband from a window or shoved him down the stairs last night I would have." Cersei nodded and raised her bottle towards Cat. "May you have the same fortune then. I hope it goes better for you. My son Joff has decided to pick up where my husband left off and my father is going to rule everything anyhow."

"I saw the way my daughter was today. Joff has already started to beat her, hasn't he? I want to take my girls home, Cersei." Cat took another swig and stared balefully at the smirking blonde. "Good luck with that. It isn't in my hands at all. Joff choked me when I tried to stand up to him after his father died. He beat Sansa and there wasn't a thing I could have done for her. I will be honest that I really felt I could control him. I knew he would still...be himself..but, not like this. And your other daughter lives in my father's house now. She works and sleeps there, mentors under Sandor and is always training under Gregor and his men. You'll be lucky to have a visit with her. I have no say over either of them and I am truly sorry about that."

Cat shook her head. "My children don't listen to me either. I suppose it is a matter of time before they try to strangle me." They drank in silence for a moment and then Cersei stared at the wall. "Why did you have to make up such a terrible lie? To have my daughter die as a drug addict? It was needlessly cruel." Sniffing, Cat lifted her chin and then nodded. "I apologize for that and for her death. I never meant to hurt your children. Why did you kill my son?" Cersei smirked and pointed the bottle at Cat. "Ahh..now see...I didn't ask you that question, did I? But I'll tell you anyway. He was watching my father disciplining me from my balcony. Father startled him and Bran fell."

"Do you know what the worst part is? I am sad for a child that I barely knew anymore. I remember his baby shampoo, his little pudgy fists, but that is about it. I was so busy...once I stopped nursing him I was pregnant with Rickon. I handed Bran off to his siblings and a nanny. I wanted to get in as much social work as I could before I was too big anymore. By the time I finished giving birth to Rickon,  I just wanted a break from all of them. Contrary to my husband's popular opinion I was more than a damned brood mare. I am a horrible mother." Cat finished the bottle and opened a new one.

"I get you. I can tell you all of Myrcella's old songs, her favorite little shows and oh, she wanted to be with me all the time. She was adorable and I only had her as mine until I had Tommen. Then...Robert and I were too self absorbed. I lost her to her relatives and nannies. But I did love her and she is gone...and Bran is gone. And our men will see to it that none of it ends until all our children are either on top or in the ground." Cat gave a sharp laugh. "Hey, maybe it will be the women who turn things on their head this time. Maybe we can work with my daughters, we can try. I mean, they can't hate us forever, can they?" Cersei spilled wine while laughing. "Oh hell yes, they can! I still hate my father to this day."

Ramsay felt sick and the bitter frustration that was choking him made his smile tight. He did his obligations and his behaved little pet followed right behind him. Behind Reek was Robb, his polite gracious manners didn't stop the ice he glared at Ramsay. When Ramsay had finished with Arya he was given the key to his pet's room by Gregor. Ramsay had opened the door and received a fist to the face. For a brief moment, Ramsay thought Reek had hit him and fully intended to flay his pet's entire hand for it. Yanking out his blade and looking up with a snarl on his lips, he saw Robb Stark. "You knew? You were here the whole fucking time? Did you hurt my boy?" 

Robb pulled Ramsay into the room and slammed the door shut. Reek was sitting in a corner, just trembling and looking at the floor. "Did he touch you, Reek?" "No Master. He just brought me here and stayed with me after your father spoke to him." Ramsay stared at Robb then growled. "You fucking asshole. What are you hitting me for then? I didn't see you trying to break down the door and save your little sister, did I? I didn't fucking hurt her, only did what I had to. And for your information, she enjoyed it." Robb launched at Ramsay but then a thunderous pounding came at the door. Gregor's voice came through the door. "No fighting. Get your asses out here and get to the services now."

The three of them drove in silence to the services and only spoke to the guests. Ramsay couldn't believe not just Robb's audacity but his own pet! Reek had a look of hurt and something that might be anger in his eyes and Ramsay couldn't stand it. There was nothing he could do about it in public, but when they got home Reek will regret his attitude. "Robb, have you seen Arya at all? Ramsay, have you?" Sansa asked as soon as she finally had a second away from Joff. This would be the first chance Sansa would have to see her sister at all in a while.

Robb, Ramsay and Reek all shook their heads silently. Sansa narrowed her eyes but then Sandor leaned over. "Sansa, your sister isn't here today. She doesn't feel well and is in her room asleep." Nodding, Sansa replied, "Thank you. Why were you two transferred? No one said anything, all of a sudden this repulsive Tickler is leering at me and treating Joff like he a king." Sandor gave a bitter twist of his lips. "That is exactly why we were transferred. We can't keep an eye on you two while kissing Joff's ass well enough. It is an honor to work in Tywin's house, Arya wasn't demoted or anything. It isn't a punishment for her, it is even better training. She is fine, I promise you."

"Oh alright, thank you. I will try and stop by to visit her tonight then." Sansa said with a small smile. Sandor turned a little red and bashfully said, "Yeah..Arya has no social privileges right now which means she has to stay on the grounds. So you'll have to check with Gregor to see if Arya can visit with you on the estate somewhere." Sansa ground her teeth but nodded then walked away heading for Gregor. "Excuse me. I hear my sister is too ill to be here today. I would like to visit her after the services to see if she is alright. Also, she must be grieving for our brother and I would like to comfort her." Gregor looked down at the girl and shook his head. "You will see her at your family services for your brother. That is in two days. Surely you can wait that long."

Sansa seethed and her back went ramrod straight and her mother seemed to glare out of her eyes. Suddenly there was a presence at her elbow and a voice she already despised. "Bad idea, little birdie. Joff is on his way towards you and if he sees you trying to use your mother's tactics on Gregor..." Sansa knew that Tickler was right. Gregor stared down at her with amusement. "Anything further, Miss Stark?" Joff came past Tickler and he saw his fiance standing before Gregor. Her eyes were lowered and she gave a polite smile. "Thank you for explaining about my sister, Gregor. I look forward to seeing her at my brother's services."

As soon as Joff came over, Sansa was at his side, clinging to his arm lightly. "Gregor said my sister was too ill to come today. I..was wondering if it was alright with you if I could visit with my sister during my brother's services?" Joff shrugged. "It depends on how well you are behaving. I can't take anymore of this and it looks like the Tyrells scared off my mother. Let's take off." Sansa desperately wished to remind Joff that it would look terrible for them to leave. "Of course, Joff. Should we say goodbye to your grandfather first or should I just go get our coats?" Sansa asked sweetly. "You aren't trying to steer me to do the socially right thing, are you, my loving fiance?" Joff asked just as sweetly.

Cringing a bit but wanting to see if Joff will let her play the game, Sansa responded carefully. "No, I have been educated. I will never try to make your decisions for you, I will never deviate from the path you have set for me. But I know that your grandfather will hurt us both if we anger him. Your mother is already in trouble with him. He and my own father are trying to find her and my own mother. They and the Tyrells are the scandalous ones right now. If we leave, we are the ones in trouble when we haven't done anything wrong. I know that if your grandfather hurts you, you will hurt me twice as badly. Please, I don't wish to upset you anymore, Joff."

Joff seemed to consider this. "We shall stay another ten minutes and then we leave. No goodbyes to anyone." Instantly Sansa nodded. "Yes, Joff. Thank you." Quiet elation built Sansa's shattered ego a little bit. Winning ten minutes wasn't a lot but to Sansa it felt like a victory. She couldn't wait to run into Margeary again. Sansa had many questions to ask her.

  Cersei and Cat squinted in the sudden light. Ned and Tywin took in the disheveled drunk women and the empty holy wine bottles around them. 


	41. Grateful For The Little Things

Dusten was sweating bullets in his new suit. He honestly couldn't comprehend how the woman has slipped past him. One minute the woman was at the coffin, then Cat Stark stole her. It was all he had to report to Gregor when he couldn't find them after thirty minutes on his own. Gregor was pissed and Dusten was nearly desperate. If the woman was kidnapped, injured or dead, it was his head that would roll and he knew it. Dusten enjoys new things but being skull fucked by Gregor Clegane was not a new thing he wants to try.

Gregor grabbed Dusten from his third visit to the ladies room in hopes, to throw him towards a storage closet. "Take a fucking look, Dusten. Tell me what you see." He looked and moaned at the bottles and the drunk giggling women. The looks on Tywin and Ned's face didn't bode well for him either.

"Perhaps I put the wrong man on the job. Get Cersei home and into bed immediately. Do it discreetly out the back, Dusten. I want you to come find me after you put the woman to bed. You text Polivar to go watch the house when you drop off Cersei then get your ass back to me. If my disciplining you interferes with my special night...you will become my special night. Do you understand me?"

Paling, Dusten nodded. "Yes Sir. My apologies Sir." He pulled the golden drunk to her feet then lifted her into his arms. Ned yanked his drunk wife up and followed Dusten out the back exit. Cersei slept the entire way back and never even knew Dusten carried her to her room. Texting Polivar, Dusten headed to the training hall where Gregor would want him to go. He hoped that Gregor was going to give a fast non clinic visit needed punishment. Though sometimes the fast ones can be worse.

One time they were in such a situation Gregor broke both of Tickler's hands when he tortured and killed the wrong target. And all of the boys have seen at least a bit of what Gregor does once a month for his rest and fun. It was nearly a rule that each recruit had to try and hear or see as much as they can stand. The fear of getting caught and the terror of what is seen is what seems to drive it. Dusten had every intention of making sure Arya lost her Gregor cherry tonight. But he can only do that if he isn't part of the fucking show.

"Did you get lost on the way back from the services?" Gregor's face was full of dramatically fake concern. "I was fucking worried because you took so damned long to get back. I thought maybe you went back South. You fucked up a lot less in the South. Is it the weather? The cold is numbing your fucking head? Do you have S.A.D., Dusten, sweetheart? Would you like me to buy you a fucking extra light to carry around with you to warm your motherfucking brain up? What the fuck is wrong with all of you, huh? You need to be focused, Dusten. I need you to all be ready for the slaughter...but you could have gotten sword fucked up the ass and not known it today!"

Gregor was now in Dusten's face, screaming. A light mist of spit covered Dusten's pale face. Gregor's face was nearing purple and his teeth looked ready to gnaw on something. Dusten sincerely hoped and prayed to every god that his boss is not going to eat his face. He is rather vain about it and would really have some adjusting to do if it was half bitten off. On the other hand, it was unthinkable to move if Gregor started to chomp on him. "You have the easiest fucking job, boy! Watch the woman, keep her from getting publicly drunk and keep her safe. How fucking difficult is that? Did you go to a special school, Dusten? Did you need to wear a helmet but you didn't play football? Huh?"

Taking off his belt, Gregor barked, "Drop them. Grab your fucking ankles. With every hit you will count it and thank me for going so easy on you! If I wasn't already busy tonight..." CRACK! "One. Thank you for going so easy on me, Sir!" Gregor reached fifteen and the boy was nearly incoherent in his answers. His ass was a mass of welts, stripes and bloody tears. Gregor did use all his strength since it was such an easy punishment. Dusten had been screaming and crying by the time Gregor had given him five strokes of his belt. "Now get your fucking ass home and try to figure out why you have become a fucking moron!"

Groaning, Dusten limped home and went to find something to help his pain. The first person he saw was that little pet cunt of Raff's. She was crawling towards the kitchen in just that damned tight midriff and those way too tight, small shorts. "Hey, where is Polivar, have you seen him?" The girl instantly had gone to the ground when he had entered which cooled a bit of his ire. Jeyne looked up, not daring to actually meet his eyes then looked directly into the kitchen. "I shouldn't have to play fucking charades with you to find out information, bitch. Next time I ask a question use your fucking words. Hear me? Use your voice! Hear me?" He was leaning over her, yelling now and Jeyne sobbed, curled into a tiny ball.

"We all can fucking hear you! Stop teasing my pet and come in here. Polivar is in here and so are the Tyrell twins. So watch your fucking mouth." Raff hollered. Baring his teeth in a hungry, face biting smile, Dusten leaned very close and whispered. "Your Master is going out tonight. You'll be here with us..with me. I am going to give you full permission to speak once he leaves, honey. I want to hear that voice and see how well you can beg." Jeyne whimpered and shook, trying not to piss herself out of fear. Which was silly because she had just gone. Only after Dusten stood back up and went to see Polivar, did Jeyne crawl into the kitchen. She went straight to Raff's boot and huddled there. This was safest. Safe was good. Jeyne's world has shrunk to Raff. That made it all safer. Yes.

Margeary glared at Dusten as he came in and went over to paw through Polivar's shit. Polivar reacted by trying to slap the hands away. "You fucking animal! Just dive right the fuck in, no lube or nothing." "Fuck off...I need painkillers now. Hurry the fuck up, I got money right here, hurry up, you stupid fucking ape." Polivar swore and shoved Dusten back then deftly retrieved a small amount of white pills from a vial. "Oxy, asshole. Pay up!" Dusten threw money at him and shoved two of the pills in his mouth and crushed them. He pocketed the rest for later. "Get me a fucking beer!" He snarled at Hotpie who immediately ran to obey the order.

A poker game ensued and Raff stood up, stretching. "Gotta get ready to go." Dusten and Polivar both looked up with angelic expressions. "Don't be late." "Yeah, we will take care of your pet for you." Raff laughed. "Did you really think I'd leave her here for you to play with?" Raff snapped his fingers as he walked away and Jeyne crawled after him.

Raff had leaned over her in the bedroom and spoke sweetly, but that just made Jeyne shake harder. "I can't take you out with you in so much pain and though I love how much you fear me....when we are in public you need to make it a little less apparent. So I am going to give you something to make things a little easier for you. I am going to show you mercy and make you feel better for a little while." Jeyne kissed his boots knowing to always be grateful. The drops on her tongue were bitter but then she felt warmer, the pain wasn't as noticeable as before. 

"When you feel better you will tell me. You will use your voice and say, yes or no Master." Raff instructed. Jeyne felt better but her fear hadn't abated any, though her shaking was now mere trembling. "Yes Master." She spoke very timidly, cringing low, her eyes low. Jeyne didn't recognize the croak as her own voice. "Good girl. I am going to help you stand up. The only time you stand is with my permission." He helped her to her feet and was pleased at how she whimpered in fear the whole time. "I like you better on the ground too, dear. It's safer down there for you, isn't it? I agree but sometimes you do need to stand and walk around for chores or coming outside with me. Hold onto me while you walk into the shower."

She stood perfectly still and allowed Raff to wash her, dry her and dress her as if she were a doll. Jeyne didn't even flinch when Raff began to fix her hair then apply concealing make up to her face with the cold precision of a surgeon. From deep inside herself Jeyne saw her reflection in the full length mirror. She had no idea where he got this dress from but Jeyne despised it. If Damon had ever seen her wear something so revealing, so trashy he'd...Raff's hand struck out of nowhere. "Your attention is wandering. I know you feel strange but you will give me your attention. Now I have to redo this cheek. If you make me get your attention again, I will remove a toenail. What do I want to hear?" "Yes Master."

Any euphoria that could have been truly welcome was destroyed as Jeyne struggled to keep her focus on Raff at all times. There wasn't even a threat about her trying to escape, none was needed. Jeyne whimpered as she was led out the door and to the car. "Easy...I have you. Don't panic." Raff's voice was soothing and Jeyne felt relief when the car door shut. He drove fast and only spoke to her just before they reached their destination. "You will stay with me or wherever I put you. You look at me, you can look at the cattle but you do not look at my men. What do I want to hear if you understand my orders?" "Yes Master." "Good girl."

Raff led her into his branch of his father's human trade business and Jeyne knew one thing right away. After seeing this pit of hell, Jeyne knew that what he told Margeary was true. His treatment of her was downright kind compared to what he could have done to her. As he spoke to men she did not see, Jeyne stared at her Master's boots and tried to timidly inch closer to him. After a few minutes of speaking to his men about humans as if they were truly products, he began to walk with them. Jeyne made sure to follow very close to Raff but she couldn't help to look at the horror around her.

The smell was terrible, humans in cages, some in chains against walls, some laying on narrow cots. They looked beaten,and some were bloody or wearing casts from broken bones. All had prong collars on their necks. That was bad but what truly terrified Jeyne was seeing children. There were men, women, kids and even a few toddlers and pregnant women. Even the little ones showed signs of abuse. Some slaves were led forward. These ones were clean, dressed and any wounds were covered in makeup. Raff walked around them to make sure they were exactly as he wanted them. "Perfect. Oh and I need one more tonight. I know its a long shot, but do we have a redhead?"


	42. Setting Up The Games

Tickler is at the top of his game and loving it. The stupid sadistic brat was like putty in his hands and the little dove was obedient as well as easily cowed. Gregor chose him for the reasons of one sadist to another. Tywin needed the boy reigned in and who better could understand how to navigate Joff's needs and temper? He plans to be the first to redeem himself in Gregor's eyes by steering the young couple exactly as Tywin wanted.

He observed them having a quiet dinner with Tommen. Their mother was still upstairs. Now closeted with Tywin and Tickler would have offered up his right nut to see what was going on in there. The little boy was pale and silent, barely touching his food. Narrowing his eyes, Joff snapped, "Are you sick? Why don't you eat?" Tickler felt bad and decided to help the little guy out. "I think the boy is a bit sick. Tommen, why don't you ask Joff if you may excuse yourself to your room? You don't want to get your older brother or his fiance sick."

The boy nodded and woodenly asked, "May I please go to my room, Joff? I'm sorry I am sick." Joff sneered at his little brother. "Yeah, get out before you make me sick. I get so much as a sniffle, I will strap you for it." The boy ran off and Sansa continued to eat in silence. "I am moving our wedding date closer. With my father dead with need to have this damned thing solidified with our families."

 Sansa nodded. A bit meekly, Sansa asked, "The wedding dress I was given was planned by our mothers. Would you rather I wore something else?" Grinning, Joff softly replied, "I am glad you asked. Burn the dress, I'll take you and put you in something I'd like better."

Tickler cleared his throat and Joff smiled at Sansa. "I'm going out for a little while. Our new friend here has some entertainment arranged for me. Oh wait..didn't you once say you would seek out your own entertainment too, Sansa darling?" His hand descended on hers and tightened painfully. "I did say that, Joff. But I wouldn't ever do that now. Please, Joff, don't hurt me, I'm being good."

Sansa flushed red at her own pitiful soft submissive whine and tears fell. This seemed to satisfy Joff and he caressed her face, now stroking her sore hand. "I am glad your face is healing so well. I like you pretty, sweetheart. Now you may go to your room and rest. Maybe I'll visit you when I get home." Sansa sniffed and nodded, not even thinking of moving away from his repulsive touch. "Thank you, Joff."

Just as Tickler was about to escort Joff out, Margeary burst into the room, a flustered servant chasing her. "I'm very sorry, Sir. She pushed me and then ran in!" Joff snarled at the maid that he would deal with her later and then he stared at Margeary. "I came to visit with Sansa. Surely you aren't going to deny her a small social visit? Look, Polivar just came on shift, he can check on us, I'll stay right here in the living room with her."

Sansa walked over to Joff and meekly looked up at him then whispered. "Shall I go to my room or visit with her?" Tickler leaned a little closer and suggested quietly, "Polivar will keep a close eye on them. Besides, look at your little dove, she is tame, she knows who owns her. And think, it can be a test. To see just how obedient to your rules Sansa is. Bet you'll come home relaxed to find your meek little dove ready to be with you and not anyone else."

Jeyne followed silently as the van was emptied out and Raff began to herd them all towards what seemed to be a small shack at the very back of the Lannister estate. Once inside there was a staircase leading to rooms underneath the ground. It looked like it was meant as a bunker perhaps for the family if needed, a safe house. Nothing felt safe about this space and Jeyne stayed as close to Raff as she could without bumping into him. Two men had brought the slaves in the van and they were herding them now.

There were three doors off a narrow hallway. All but one were shoved into the larger room. "I'm thrilled you managed to actually get two full families. They tend to try and fight him more to save their family members. Even the women will attack to try and save their children." Raff commented lightly as he steered one lone girl who had auburn hair into a different room. This girl was sobbing quietly and Jeyne felt bad for her. The girl was dressed to look like Sansa and Jeyne knew whatever was going to happen to her would be terrible.

She was chained by her hands to the ceiling, her feet barely brushing against the ground. Satisfied, Raff left the room and then went back to the larger room. He tossed a few old rusty weapons onto the middle of the floor then spoke to the cowering families. "The man coming here tonight is coming to violate, abuse and murder all of you. If you can fend him off or kill him with these weapons, I will allow you freedom. Good luck." Ignoring pleas and questions, Raff and his men left the room, locking the door behind them.

Jeyne nearly ran out of the room on Raff's heels. She was panting, desperate to distance herself from the horrid fate coming for these victims. Raff turned and put one hand on her throat, squeezing slowly as he spoke very slowly and calmly. "No panicking. You have been very good, you have pleased me today, do not ruin it now. What do I want to hear?" "Yes Master. Sorry Master." Jeyne whispered and forced her body to relax within Raff's grip. "Better. We are heading home now and you can go back to crawling. Are you happy to hear that, girl? Look at me when you answer." 

With difficulty Jeyne looked into Raff's lovely eyes and whined. "Yes, please. Home and crawling is safe, Master. I'm happy to go home." Raff gave her a charming smile and she softly whined. "Good girl. Follow." As they were leaving, Jeyne could see Gregor coming from one direction and Joff with Tickler from another. Jeyne hurried after Raff and truly couldn't wait to be inside on the ground where it is safest for her. The second they entered the house, she got down on the floor before Raff could even give the order to. "Good girl. You are getting a reward for doing so well tonight." Jeyne had not eaten since Raff gave her his leftover cereal to lap at this morning. She nearly drooled when Raff pulled out some food. 

She sat on her heels in front of Raff and carefully ate pieces of apple, cheese and homemade bread out of his hand. Jeyne licked his hand clean afterwards then rubbed her head timidly against it. She was grateful that her Master treated her so well, kept her so safe. Had she any idea these men, this one man even was what they are really like, Jeyne never would have approached them. She would never have dared to attack them, never would have been so stupid.

Jeyne was so lucky that Raff didn't put her with the other slaves. Or disfigure her, snap her bones, sell her for torture and death. Whimpering, sobbing, she eagerly let him choke her with his cock until she nearly passed out later on. Jeyne rode Raff so deeply and hard that it caused her to cry out in pain. But she willingly continued to hurt herself upon his command. When he was finished afterwards, Jeyne received another reward. Usually when her Master went to bed, he put Jeyne into the cage.

Tonight he lay on the bed and kicked her to the ground. "You may sleep right at the end of my bed. There is a folded blanket there that you may use. Leave this room, leave that blanket to go anywhere but the bathroom and I will take a toe. What do I want to hear?" "Yes Master, thank you, I am grateful." And she truly was, the blanket felt like a cloud on her sore skin. She fell asleep thinking how very lucky she was. Raff waited until his pet was asleep then slipped back out to make sure clean up was done properly afterwards.

Dusten leaned into Arya's room with a winning smile. "Come on...it's a fucking ritual for the recruit. You are a recruit...you are one of us, aren't you? Huh?" Making a grimace, Arya said, "Is this a hazing thing? Because I have permission to stay in my room and rest..I had a rough day. And I have no permission to go anywhere either."

Rolling his eyes, Dusten made a quick text. A moment later Sandor filled the doorway. "What do you want?" He grumbled staring at Dusten. "Please inform your student that the 'recruit Gregor sports challenge' is not hazing and that every single man here has done it." Sandor groaned. "Ah,yeah, I forgot about it. Shit..it's not hazing, Arya...it is just disgusting and if you get caught...well, ask Tickler about that."

"I don't want to risk getting in anymore trouble. Can't I do this next month? Doesn't Gregor do whatever this is once a month?" Arya hedged but Dusten shook his head. "I am starting to think you don't really want to be one of us, girl. Here I am offering you a chance to join all of our rituals and you are saying no. After all your talk of trying to fit in."

Arya snarled in frustration but she nodded and grabbed her clothing. "Alright, give me five minutes to get some clothing on." Sandor sighed and Dusten grinned, shoving Sandor playfully. "Oh, lighten up! How long do you think she'll last? Will she puke, faint or cover her eyes first? Want to make a bet?"


	43. Fun And Games

Tickler escorted Joff into the small room. Joff sucked in his breath at the sight of the writhing, begging, terrified redhead. "She looks similar to Sansa...really close, even down to the clothing." Tickler nodded and grinned. "We can get more and we can always dye the hair or change the person to look like whomever you want. There is no reason to ever have to go too far on your real bride or your mother when you can do that to them right here. Anything you want, Joff. If you want to kill her you can, if you want to keep her alive and come visit on occasion you can do that too. This is courtesy of Gregor and Raff."

Joff ignored the girl for a moment to stare hard at Tickler. "Did my father use this service of Raff's? Or receive a gift like this from Gregor?" Tickler shook his head and spoke with disdain. "No offense, but your father is nothing like you, like those of us with a taste for pain and power over others. He was nothing like you and thank the gods for that. He never knew Raff even dealt with slave trading and Gregor wouldn't give your father a gift if a gun was held to his head. Gregor obeyed orders from Tywin but he never respected your father. You, he respects."

The eyes turned back to the girl and he began to slowly walk around her. He smirked at her begging and crying. "See this is a proper way to settle your emotions if I may say. That little dove of yours is broken to you. Some women like your mother and that northern ice cunt need constant beatings to keep in line. Look at what happened today! Sansa would never be found in such a position like that! Some girls only need one good lesson to figure out the way things work. She is one of those, Joff. I say this from someone who observes the girl when she doesn't know it. Like you, I don't see her public face, I can see her private one...even the ones she might not show you. I have an outsider's point of view, Joff."

Joff reached out and ripped the lovely dress off the young woman, enjoying her distress. "So tell me then. What is your review of Sansa's behavior? Not just as an outsider but as someone who...understands what I need her to be, what I want from her." "Since you gave her that beating, the girl has tried her hardest to please you. She is scared, Sansa can barely make eye contact with you and the girl is nearly giving herself a breakdown trying to make sure that she obeys you. The girl doesn't tolerate pain well and Sansa has been humbled, broken. She has become skittish when you aren't with her, Sansa is coming to rely only on you. This is exactly what you want from her. To obey you but offer her humble submissive opinion on things she might know about. You still need her to be a public wife, so you can only take her down so far."

"The fragile bird is obedient and any mistakes she makes will be minor and can be handled with a simple punishment. I bet when you return home, Sansa will be desperate to get away from Margaery and back to you. So your darker needs and fantasies of what you wish to do to your pretty property can be acted out here. Then you can go home and soothe your timid little broken bird." Tickler leaned against the wall and watched as Joff started to look at the weapons and torture devices on the metal table that ran the length of the wall. There were hooks and chains dangling from the ceiling so that he can position the girl any way he wishes. "I wish to have your expertise, Tickler. Would you mind staying?" Tickler smiled and said he didn't mind at all. 

He advised Joff on what different things did and the most effective ways to prolong torture. Joff used a Pear of Anguish and then he very carefully chewed the woman's nipples off. Tickler positioned the screaming, begging girl in the chains for each new thing Joff came up with to try. Finally, Joff couldn't take it anymore and grabbed a cattle prod. He worked it up the helpless victim's ass as she wailed like a fucking siren. It just made him harder and want to hurt her more. Joff had Tickler position her in the chains so he could fuck her while working the cattle prod in her ass. He fucked her brutally and pumped the cattle prod even harder while staring at the agony on her face. Joff started to shock her over and over as he slammed into her swollen, torn and bloody holes.

The girl would jerk, her muscles would tighten, eyes would roll in agony and she would foam at the mouth. Her little feet would patter and the chains rattled while the girl would make a wretched screaming sound. Joff fucked her wildly, his teeth bared in her face, "Yeah, there you go, Sansa. Die on my cock, you little uppity bitch. Act like your mother or mine now, bitch. Fuck, die on my cock, you little whore, you dumb fucking cunt, I want you to feel me come in you as you die."

He continued to force the cattle prod further up her ass beyond any normal limit. The girl began to howl as he pumped the prod into her insides and shocked her continually as he slammed himself in and out of her. A last seizure that went on longer and the girl began to squeeze him so tightly inside then she made a rattling sound. Joff let go of the prod firmly and fatally lodged inside of her ass and grabbed the girl's face with both hands. He fucked her deep and hard then watched as the girl began to die. Joff started to give high pitched whines. His whole body tensed then he poured into the girl, "Oh gods, yes, die on my cock you fucking worthless bitch."

Joff leaned on her corpse for a moment to catch his breath before he was able to hose and towel himself off and get dressed. "That was fucking amazing. Sorry I killed her...can I have another one soon if I want to?" Tickler nodded. "Sure can. You should feel much better now. Before I head home for the night, I want to see if I am right. If that poor broken birdie is sitting miserable with Margeary just waiting for you to return."

That was the furthest thing from the truth. Watching Joff torture and murder the girl has sent Tickler hard as a fucking rock and desperate to go fuck someone. Raff was going to be busy with the clean up of everything, maybe he can sneak up to Jeyne and force her to suck him off. He knows better than to dare rape Raff's property but using her mouth or hands can't really be a big deal.

But first he had to get the little sadist and the fragile dove all tucked away for the night. Tickler wondered if maybe he could get Margeary to blow him. She mainly fucks Gregor when she visits but once Margeary did allow Tickler to go down on her and she used her hands to return the favor. Granted, they were still teenagers then, but there was always hope. He led Joff to the house, trying his damnedest not to seem like he was running.

Sandor refused to go inside the shed with them. "Nope, I am way too big to try and sneak around there. If you two get caught, it's your own problem. I'm going to buy some weed from Polivar and pretending not to have any idea where you all are." Dusten sneered at him but Sandor walked away only giving his middle finger over his shoulder at them. Arya was regretting this already but there was no real way of backing out of it. She can't seem to do anything different than the others, not when her fucking future seems to be on the line everyday.

"If we get caught...how bad will it be?" "If YOU get caught then Gregor will do to you what he did to Tickler. The only other one ever to have gotten caught..and that was only because the sick fuck was masturbating to it. He came and stumbled into the wall loud enough for Gregor to hear him." Dusten laughed then signaled her to be quiet.

Silently, Dusten led her down into the cramped hallway and past the first two doors, to the third one. It looked like a storage area full of hardcore cleaning supplies. It also had a small fake wall that removed to be able to see and hear into the larger room without detection. "Now, Gregor is aware this thing is here. He is aware of the game too. He doesn't care about it as long as he doesn't see you do it. As long as you don't draw attention to yourself. Tickler banged against the wall, it distracted and irritated Gregor. He removed Tickler's left little toe. So if you fuck up and get noticed, he will probably take a toe."

Dusten grinned as he removed the fake wall and shoved Arya closer. "If you puke, use the bucket next to you. Be out of here before Gregor is done. And stay very quiet. Oh, if you do get caught and you mention my name, I'm going to take your big right toe myself. Have fun." I could lie and say I looked, Arya thought as Dusten left her alone in the room. But he would know she was lying because if its enough to make someone puke...

Taking a deep breath Arya looked and stopped breathing. Her hands balled into fists, she bit her lip, she winced then tears and sweat came. The sounds in the room were inhuman and Arya wondered if anyone other than the boys knew Gregor did this. Did Tywin truly know what he and these men are capable of? Of course he did and the fact that he is having them all hide their true selves so much makes her worry for the North. Arya watched as Gregor ripped limbs off of his victims like wings off a fly. She observed him raping and partially eating a young girl before he picked up a steel bat. When he forced several small children to sit before him and played a terrible game of Duck, Duck, Smash, Arya ran.

She made it out the shack door and then started to vomit. Dusten and Sandor stood nearby. The giant was shaking his head and the handsome smaller man was laughing until he could barely breath.


	44. Little Conversations

Margeary had been sipping wine and desperately trying to get Sansa to join in. "Oh, no I am happy with my tea. I don't think Joff would like me drinking. I truthfully don't like the taste anyway." With a sympathetic grin the lovely young woman asked, "Is it that you don't like it or you are scared that Joff will be angry?" Sansa hesitated only for a second then responded with a polite smile, "I don't like the taste."

"Uh huh. So how long has he been beating you for?" She smiled at Sansa's look of shock. "Don't worry...it is only noticeable to those of us who know what to look for. The fear and pain will at away at you if you let it." Sansa gasped and whispered to Margeary, "Please, the guard is right there, he will hear you! I don't want anymore trouble. Joff will be looking for any reason..." Giving a small sweet laugh, Margeary put a delicate hand on Sansa's knee.

"Don't worry about Polivar. He is a good friend of mine. So is Gregor and all of his boys. I grew up with them, I spent a good amount of my childhood going between my home and the Lannisters. Polivar isn't listening to us, but even if he was, he won't get us in trouble. I promise you." Sansa nodded and then spoke softly. "Joff only hit me for the first time this last week. After his father died, he punched me...then the next night he beat me and raped me. Since then I've been scared to do anything but please him or at least try to."

Margeary rubbed the soft leg and soothed, "I understand. Joff can be quite..sadistic. When I was first engaged to him he hit me. Before we were engaged we rarely spoke to each other except when we had to. He was too busy skinning cats and molesting his little sister to really notice others. I cried for days when I was told I had to marry him. The day came when we were engaged and his gift to me after the fancy ball they held for us was to snatch me half bald and break my nose. All because I drank with my friends and danced more with my brother than with my fiance."

Sansa tried to hide her tears and Margeary cooed while getting some tissues for her. She saw Polivar out of the corner of her eye int he hallway. He was indeed listening and had a smirk on his face. He rolled his eyes and Margeary glared at him then jerked her head for him to leave. Slowly he shook his head then used his phone for a moment to text. Margeary took the chance to look at her text message while Sansa tried to compose herself. It was a frowning face and the message, **Friendzoned. Sorry, can't help you out.**  

Sansa pulled herself together. "I'm sorry. It was just nice to know that it wasn't me...like a personal thing. Did..it continue until they broke the engagement?" Margeary sent Polivar a rude message and looked up at Sansa. "It isn't personal. Most of these husbands from old families..old ways..they are like that. But Joff is worse than most of them. Your father or Robert, yeah they might beat the shit out of their wives, but they don't maim or kill them. They don't spend everyday trying to torture them. That is how Joff is...he wants you to suffer, to constantly fear him and grovel under his damned little pointy shoe."

A surprised bit of laughter burst out of Sansa at that description. "That is the worst part. When I met Joff we were on an equal playing field. We exchanged threats and insults but worked together. The second that Robert died, it was like a whole other side of Joff was in control." Margeary nodded. "Yep. It was his father that kept him line along with Tywin. His grandfather couldn't always be there but Robert was. He was a terrible father but his fists at least kept Joff too fearful to go too far publicly. Now Joff's father is dead and he isn't a child for Tywin to just send away anymore." Margeary poured herself more wine.

"When my grandmother saw what Joff had done to me the night of our engagement she was enraged. She spoke to Tywin and Joff never struck me again. We were rarely allowed to be with each other without an escort after that. But Joff would make all kinds of threats and vile promises of what he would do to me once we were married. It prompted me to rash things." Margeary gave a wolfish grin and Sansa leaned closer. "Like what?" "I started to research different ways to poison a man. I tried to learn how to get a new identity, I was desperate for an escape. All the time I was playing sweet and nice with everyone."

Sansa finished her cooling tea and listened, fascinated. "One night we ended up being left alone after all and Joff was planning to rape me. I took my eye drops and poured them into my wine and downed it. I started to vomit all over him just as Joff started to rip up my dress. Luckily, I didn't kill myself with them! I really wasn't trying to kill myself of course, I was just that fearful of letting his revolting hands touch me. Like being raped by a rabid ferret." Sansa nodded. "Can't say I find any enjoyment in it myself. I can't get out of this wedding, I'm stuck." Margeary might have offered more to say but the door opened and Polivar stood straight up, entering the room as if he'd been there the whole time.

"Joff's back." He said quietly just before Joff entered the room with Tickler behind him. Sansa jumped up and ran to Joff to timidly kiss his cheek. "Did you have a fun time out?" She asked nervously keeping her eyes on his pointed shoes. "Yes, how about you, having fun with your guest?" Sansa's eyes screamed no but she smiled and spoke politely. "Oh yes. She has the best stories to tell." Joff narrowed his eyes at Sansa then at Margeary's wine glass. "And did you have some wine together with your new friend?" Sansa cringed at the tone and shook her head fast. "No, I had tea. Only Margeary had wine."

Joff gave an approving little stingy purse of his lips and rudely said to Margeary, "You had your visit. Go home." Tickler offered to escort Margeary and Polivar scowled. But Tickler had no more luck than Polivar had. Unlike with most of the girls Tickler has played with, he can't force her to what he wants. Not if he doesn't want Gregor to remove his head and shove it up his ass. So when Margeary shoved him away laughing, Tickler had no choice but to let her escape in an Uber. As he cut across the grass heading for the Barracks he saw a small crowd in front of the shack. He stopped long enough to give Arya some shit for puking at Gregor's games then went to head home.

Just as he headed there, he heard Raff call over. "Hey, fuckface! I know that look on your face! I know what you helped Joff do, must be giving you blue balls. Don't even think about going near Jeyne or I'll break your fucking jaw for you. Then I might have a real hard time finding redheads for you. Will certainly never have any supplies for you personally again either." Tickler swore and stomped towards the house. He slammed into the house and heard a sound from the laundry room. With a terrible growing smile, Tickler remembered Polivar's new boy. True, it was a disgusting fat pig, but Tickler has never cared what sex he raped. As a sadist, Tickler was equal opportunity in every way and he headed for the laundry room.

 

 

 


	45. Everyone Point A Finger

As if winter looked around the North and was disgusted, it suddenly fled. The morning of the services of Bran Stark it was sunny and warm. The mild breeze came through every window, caressing the curtains. For some inside those windows, the spring felt more like another way to mock them. To have such a lovely day when it will be a day stuck inside stone walls with the dead and the almost dead. And each one of these almost dead folks are seeing everyone else as almost dead folks. 

Sansa let Joff dictate her clothing and hair. He even picked out her make up colors and made her change them twice before he was satisfied. She saw herself in the mirror and almost laughed. It was a very close thing and at the last second it came out as her best craft since he beat her. Turning fast, she blurted out in a voice shaking not to giggle insanely, "Please, can't I just stay here and go with you? I..I don't want to be with them, I want to be with you. I..I won't mess up if I am with you."

Joff smirked and Tickler gave an approving glance to Sansa from the doorway where he was leaning. He tried to stay with Joff at all times that he was with another person. Sansa most especially. Though he had to say, between his own intervention and the girl's cleverness or timidness she has managed to remain unharmed. Joff would start to look for reasons to hurt her, but Sansa was never doing anything wrong. Tickler thinks there is something in there, not of her mother or Cersei that might be something Joff should worry about. He feels if the girl was pushed hard enough, far enough that Sansa would snap. And when she did it would be violent.

He mentioned this in his report to Gregor and Tywin, he always puts everything he observes about both of them. When Tickler isn't watching Joff, it's Polivar. That idiot listens and reports but he doesn't intervene and won't unless he sees or hears Joff becoming too violent. So at night when Tickler heads home and Polivar roams the hallways, Joff goes to Sansa. All the abuse is sexual now but at least Tickler was able to convince Joff to use it instead of physical violence. Tickler showed Joff a few very private movies that featured some of Raff's finest bitches. They were all sexually tortured, molested, violated, but not truly injured. It did the trick at least for now.

Arya stepped out of her bedroom door and almost walked into a wall. Gregor looked down and her and grumbled out, "You have until five this evening to be with your family. Your sister is waiting for your escort, you will watch over her until you both have returned. What time will you both return by?" "Five, sir." He gave a sharp nod and walked away. She took a deep breath and headed down the stairs.

Sandor was walking by and he grinned. "Look at you...can you run or fight in those little black shoes? Never mind the skirt or sweater. Keep walking around like that, you'll never hear the end of it." Narrowing her eyes, Arya retorted, "What should I wear to my brother's death services? My jeans or maybe my sweatsuits?" Arya headed towards the Baratheon's house when she encountered Dusten and Polivar.

Shrill whistles and catcalls from Dusten. Polivar guffawed then asked, "Why are you trying to call her over? She was ugly before but now she looks like Justin Bieber in the middle of transgender surgery." Snorting, Dusten responded, "She could just put a bag over her head and I can pretend though." Arya glared at both of them as she headed to get Sansa. Her sister was ready and she gave her fiance a kiss that made Arya shudder. How her sister can stomach Joff, Arya will never know. On the other hand, her sister could say the same back for Ramsay Bolton. 

The two girls made their way towards the grim Stark estate. They wished they could go straight to the cars and wait but they must all go as a family. Arya looked up at her sister then gave her a whole once over with a grin. "What the hell are you trying to look like? Something is wrong,  you look like...I got it! Dorothy from Wizard of Oz..no no, wait...Shirley Temple! I mean you have these curls and ribbons, what the fuck is that? Your make up makes you look nearly terminal and this fluffy sweater over a turtle neck shirt? You'll freaking melt. And the ankle length skirt is perfect. If we end up having to run into any religious cults they will automatically assume you are one of theirs and you can just meld in and escape!"

Sansa laughed. "Joff likes to dress me. He likes to humiliate and beat and rape me too." Arya snorted. "I was married by force to Ramsay Bolton. At least the sex was good." Sansa shuddered. "Joff is bad enough...do you know what Ramsay did to Kyra?" Nodding, Arya sighed. "Yes, I know. The same as I know Polivar killed my friends and holds Hotpie as a slave and how I know Raff keeps Jeyne as a fuck toy. All these things, terrible things we know and pretend we don't. Or at least act as if we don't care. Tywin and Gregor and fucking Walder Frey all just sat there as my life and Walda Frey's were given away to sadists. Do they really think I would ever leave to be Ramsay's proper little Northern wife?" Sansa squeezed Arya's hand. "Sadly, yes."

 Ramsay sat in the car next to his father but his mind was back at the house with his pet. He didn't mean to hurt him that badly, bad enough that he couldn't come to the services. Not that Ramsay wanted Reek anywhere near the Starks, certainly nowhere near Robb...but Ramsay wanted the support of his pet. The only person that never doubted, questioned or talked back to Ramsay. And that is why Ramsay lost his temper so badly. Even though Reek never spoke the words, Ramsay saw them in his eyes. And he knew if he pushed Reek hard enough, he would tell Ramsay the truth. Sure enough, after a flayed ankle and two broken ribs, Reek spoke. Of course, it was to beg for mercy, but Ramsay could see he truth in Reek's eyes.

"I didn't want to marry a teen girl, Reek! I don't want to be forced into marriage! I didn't want to hunt Kyra, I didn't have any choice in these things! Do you think I had any say in what happened to Jeyne? You think I enjoy putting my own best friend though that? My father is forcing us all like fucking puppets to dance to the South! I am not the traitor here Reek! I am just following orders! No! No, not like my boys, how dare you even think it? I am for the North, fighting to save the North, I am not too weak or too stupid to do that, Reek!"

Ramsay finally had let Reek's senseless babble of agreement soothe him. He had to have the doctor come to see Reek and patch him up. Now his pet is high on painkillers and being watched by a drunk, bitter Damon. And here is Ramsay with his father, ready to sacrifice himself and everyone else yet again. He is sickened by himself. I can't live like this anymore. And the shittiest part was, Ramsay knew he would need the fucking Stark siblings in order to help change things. 


	46. No Respect Intended

Cat was tired and sore. Her feet were killing her and so were her thighs. They were still tender from Ned's last beating the night he caught her drunk on holy wine with Cersei. "It is sick, I tell you. That Frey girl cannot be more than nineteen years old. I suppose even Roose is more tolerable to live with then Walder Frey. But the age difference alone...why didn't Roose just marry her to Ramsay?"

Cat handed Varys a drink and gestured to a seat in the one empty den. Varys arched his brow and replied airily, "I guess Roose wanted to find a better bride for Ramsay. I hear that Walder paid a huge sum of money to Roose for the privilege of wedding his daughter." 

Petyr came by and glared at Varys. "Why aren't you singing your little songs to your own clients? Cat needs none of your advice or gossip." Varys gave a little triumphant smirk to Petyr. "Well I simply cannot help it if things are more interesting over here right now. I just know that my songs seem to be interesting to Cat so far..unless you have one you want to share?"

Cat rolled her eyes at the hissing gossip-mongers and dryly assured them, "Ladies, you are both very pretty and very petty. Now, Varys, what did you mean about a better bride for Ramsay? A Frey girl would be the best that boy could ever hope for..."

She didn't miss the warning glare from Petyr to Varys nor did she miss Petyr's eyes casting about for help. Quickly Cat shut the door of the den on the other mourners still milling about their home. "You know something and I demand to hear it. Now or so help me..." Almost as if he were shocked to be doing so Varys blurted out, "Roose had a secret wedding for Ramsay and Arya. Oh gods..why did I say that?"

Petyr stared at Varys and shook his head slowly. "You used your damned truth serum on him, didn't you?" Cat nodded. "Of course...you were the idiot that came over. But if I ask him, he is going to tell me you were there and involved, huh? You fucking traitorous snake!"

Raising up his hands, Petyr smirked. "You are so self centered, it's all about you only. You sold Sansa off to a damned sadist and now you can't get her back. You left Arya to the mercy of Gregor Clegane and his men. I tried to do the right thing and at least secure one daughter of yours away from the fucking Lannisters! Once things have settled more, Ramsay can take Arya to his home or hell, since he isn't interested in her, drop her here to you! But at least she won't be thrown into some sick marriage with Tyrion or hell, Tommen! Or Tywin himself! Would you put it past them?"

Cat hit Petyr's face with all the force she could muster while Varys was dozing in the chair. "You gave my young girl to an adult sadist. A man who hunts girls, a man who forced another man into a freakish creature! So because he is of the North that makes him less a monster than Joff? How dare you?"

Ned strolled through the room and noted his wife was missing. Then he noticed his sons and daughters all seemed to be sneaking into the library. He thought about following to see what they were up to. When Ramsay also went into the room, Ned headed for the library but then he saw Joff. Cat had told him her suspicions and Ned had to concede that his daughter was not at all like her former self. 

The girl had seemed terrified and moved as if her body was in pain. The clothing and appearance was so out of context, Ned at first didn't know it was his own daughter. Her head was low, her eyes met no ones, her voice was meek and as soon as Joff showed, Sansa never left his side. This was the first time all day Ned saw Joff alone.

He slipped up next to Joff and used his whole body to block the room from the boy. One huge arm went around Joff's neck as if to hug him and the other went under. A large hand firmly grasped Joff's balls and started to squeeze tighter and tighter.

"My boy, I know your father is dead and your grandfather is a very busy man. So as your soon to be father in law, I shall offer you some good advice. Northern women can be stubborn and spiteful when pushed. On occasion they need a strong hand to guide them, deliver the occasional push or spank if needed. I understand that, all of us do. I get the feeling that isn't what you are doing though, Joff. If I don't see my daughter lose that look of terror and a body held stiff with torture, I'm going to make you look that way." Ned shoved Joff away from him and headed for the library door.

Robb had just finished telling Jon of Arya's marriage when he noticed the girls glaring at him worse than Jon was. "What?" "You knew?" Arya asked hotly. "You knew all along? Who else knew? Why didn't you stop it?" Defensively, Robb threw up his hands.

"It wasn't my idea or plan, Arya. Roose Bolton fucking ambushed me and then had Locke drag me and Reek to that motel room to wait for Ramsay. I didn't have a choice but to be honest..it isn't the worst thing that could happen. What if Tywin decided to marry you to a Lannister? At least this way, it is a Northern partner. Besides, you aren't the only sacrifice being made. I am being pressed by them to marry one of Walder's daughters. A repulsive fucking thought." Jon tilted his head. "And we aren't informing our father of all this...why? I mean, Roose is overriding your parents to marry you guys off? This seems right to you?"

Ramsay chose that moment to slip into the room. Arya glared at him from her perch on the large windowsill. "No, get out. It's a family only meeting." "I'm family now, remember? So go on, talk...I want to talk too. With all of you."  Sansa and Arya smoked a joint in the open window and watched the "man show."

First the men argued and agreed on a series of things. It was agreed that Ned has not managed to do anything to reverse the North's takeover. It was then decided that Roose was trying to take not just the Stark's empire over but be in the employ of Tywin himself. Too many victims and atrocities have been committed for them to ignore any longer. They will rise and rebel even if it means going against or even killing their fathers. "Oh, sounds very dramatic that, are you impressed yet?" Sansa whispered to Arya who giggled under her hand. "Very impressed. Okay, they are done grandstanding...onto their plans. Let's listen." Arya whispered as if commentator of a sports show.

"You might want to stop mocking us and actually pay attention. Being that you two are over in the enemy camp, you will need to spy for us and give us access inside the homes when needed." Jon snapped moodily. Both girls laughed and then tried to stop when they saw how angry the boys looked. Very pleasantly, Arya spoke.

"Let's assume that we helped you with your rebellion. Let's assume that it goes well and you win. Then what? What happens for myself and Sansa? Huh? Can I get a divorce and move on with my life? Sansa and I can leave, travel, go to college maybe? Right?" Both girls bitterly laughed at the somber faces. "No. I would be married off to some Northern man and Arya will be forced to live as a proper Northern wife to Ramsay. So why should we help you with no better chance at a future than we already have now?" Sansa smiled at the men struggling for answers to her question.

They heard a knock at the door and Ned call in, "Why is this door locked?" The girls ditched the smoke and then went climbing out the window. "Let's head back early, I can't take anymore of this bullshit." Sneered Arya and Sansa agreed. "Oh, shit..I think Joff is still in the living room. If I leave without him, he will get all nuts on me. I am really reaching the end of my fucking endurance with him too."

Arya looked up at Sansa. "Do you have a plan? If you need my help, let me know." Sansa smiled and gave Arya's head a mocking pat. "Thanks, little sister. I have it under control for now. Just remember to back up anything I say later and it will be help enough." Arya waited until her sister strolled back into the house before heading towards the Lannisters. As soon as she heard Ramsay yell her name, she ran off the street and onto the property. Moving fast, Arya went to cross behind the barracks to get the the Lannister's back door faster.

 


	47. A Nice Spring Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We are moving a few months forward. It is now full spring.

"Fuck Polivar for me?"

Margeary blinked in the bright light suddenly flooding the room as Loras ripped the motel curtain up. "Fuck off and get out of here. Peddle your own ass for drugs. Your fault our grandmother left us here to fucking rot in the North! I need to look good for my own fucking conquests before the fucking manager is banging out door again!" Loras swore and shoved her out of the bed. "Just use your mouth or your hands! Hell, I'd do it if he'd let me! I'm hurting, I can't help either of us like this." He shoved his thin shaking hands in her face.

"Look! I can't go anywhere like this! I already owe Polivar and half the fucking Wildlings money. No one is going to give me any more on my charms or name. No one is going to give you anything soon either! We can't go homeless and unfed, right? You already look like shit...no more tanning, no more spas or personal trainers, look at you! Cheap make up and raggy clothes, come on, you gonna get gay Robb to marry you? If you are real lucky maybe the drunk dwarf?" Loras sneered as Margeary punched him in the chest to move him.

"Its not my fault! Grandmother deserted us because of your disgusting fucking habits!" She shot at him over her shoulder as she staggered towards the bathroom. Loras gave a wild laugh and leaned in the doorway as she used the toilet. "Oh, really? Just me, huh? You were supposed to win Joff back. You lost him to that fucking simpering pale thing and THAT is why she left us! You couldn't play scared and timid long enough to marry. That bitch has out acted you."

Margeary snapped back, "No, Loras, I wasn't about to let Joff hurt me just to fucking appease you and Grandmother. That bitch isn't out acting me, she is truly scared and hurt. I visit with her still and I have seen it for myself. No fucking way will I ever let a man do that to me. I'm not your whore anymore than Grandmother's. So fuck off and find another way to pay for your habit."

A knock sounded at the door ending the argument as the two cowered in the bathroom, staring at the door. Margeary whispered, "It's the manager again. If we don't have the money, we might be homeless as of today." Loras clutched his own throat and whined back, "Or it's fucking Tormund or even Polivar looking for their payments and in that case, we'll be dead."

A voice came through the door that made the twins slump in relief then they tried to hurry and put themselves together. "One moment, please! I'll be right there, dear!" Trilled Margeary as Loras used Febreeze on himself since he hasn't managed to remember to shower in a week or so. Opening the door, the twins gave winning if quite stretched smiles and twinkling eyes to Podrick, Tyrion Lannister's personal assistant and driver.

Margeary has slept with him only once but he was the most amazing fuck she has ever had in her life. Even better than the thrill of fucking the giant Clegane who could crush her at any second. She can't even describe it, just that he paid so much attention to pleasuring her that Margeary  had multiple orgasms before they even started to actually fuck.

Loras loves to watch the man walk around and beamed at Podrick over his sister's shoulder. "Uh, hey. So Sansa didn't have a number for you anymore that worked, so I was asked to track you guys down. Joff and Sansa would like to invite you not just to their upcoming nuptials, but want you to be in the wedding party. Here, this packet tells everything, oh and Sansa has added some funds to take car of transportation and wedding related things..outfits, whatever. Great. Oh, I got you this cell..its on of the those pay for minutes one....I took the liberty of putting two hundred dollars onto it. That should let the wedding planners reach you. Have a great day!"

Podrick tried to look as if he wasn't running away. But sleeping with Margeary once was enough, it was like sleeping with a praying mantis, waiting to lose your head. And Loras panting over him is just it's own disturbing. But worse was that Loras looked more like ghoul that needs to find some grave dirt to hide in and Margeary looked fifty shades of fucked up. They really had hit rock bottom and Podrick reported that with disgust to Tyrion. Tyrion laughed then passed it on without the disgust part.

Bare callused feet luxuriated in soft grass. Wind, clean fresh air, warm and mild caressing their pale faces and lips that rarely smile were grinning. It didn't matter that Hotpie was using an old lawn mower to try and cut grass exactly the same way the professional landscapers do. He knows it won't come out right but at least it well be done well, just in a different way. Might earn him punishment, probably will as the job wasn't one of his anyway. But Gregor ordered spring cleaning and the pets took everything very literally. To the boys amusement the pets took the entire house apart, cleaned it and put it back together. 

Jeyne was hanging curtains, sheets and rugs that were carefully washed. She used a string out back, going on instinct of what her mother did. No one questioned their methods, no one was concerned about them going out the door. These are tame creatures, they obey and not a single one of the men could imagine either of them trying to run or rebel. So the two enjoyed the outside and when they finished they sat on the steps while they peeled and cut potatoes for a potato salad. Hotpie had gotten permission to lug the old grill out. He was making his special brand of hamburgers and sausages. So they chopped all the vegetables outside into huge bowls and had a nice long conversation. Well, it really sounded like Hotpie talking to himself.

However, any of the boys could have told you he wasn't, even though he does do that. No, Jeyne was fully involved in the conversation and Hotpie would yell at her objections or teasing. She has learned the art of charades, the ways to use her facial expressions and her body to communicate was creepy and kind of impressive to watch. Many times the only ones home are the pets and they are left with enough chores to keep them busy. They knew their work, their schedules, what to always do for each person, how to react to each thing. Polivar might tell them continually that they are stupid, but they are not. They are clever and they have been broken enough to adapt to their environment. There were no more thoughts of rescue anymore. 

The time Jeyne timidly approached Hotpie who was sobbing in the bathroom. They were alone in the house and Jeyne finally opened the bathroom door and went in. She took one look and instantly came in shutting the door. Without a word, she stood up and began getting things from a small first aid kit in the bathroom. Hotpie let her treat him and then she gave him small very thin pads. She showed him how they could stick to his underwear to catch anymore trickles of blood.

Jeyne quickly wrote a small note telling him if the bleeding gets worse to ask Polivar to see the doctor. He nodded and then he told her what Tickler had done. She held him and let him cry as long as he needed to.  They never spoke of it again. From that day forward, they had a bond. Hotpie had someone to listen to him and Jeyne had a person still treat her like a human. He never disobeyed, she never disobeyed, they never spoke of rebellion or escape or rescue.

They were allowed to use a small battered laptop that smoked if it was on too long and some of the keys only worked if hit several times very hard. Hotpie researched recipes, he and Jeyne both looked up different cleaning techniques and organization.  What both found amusing in a dark way was that neither of them in their former lives were ever overly concerned with domestic things.

Considering what they must do when they are not involved in their domestic work, they threw themselves into it like a religion. One time Gregor's fears came true and Tywin came to the Barracks. He wished to speak with Tickler about Joff and he was already on his walk. Gregor leaped after him and was already planning the worst punishments he could imagine when Tywin saw beaten naked pets and a fucking frat house.

Gregor and Tywin both stared at the sparkling, orderly home that was filled with the delicious smell of an Italian meat sauce. Tickler and Raff were the only two there. They looked the same, acted the same and it jarred with the domestic scene around them. The boy and girl had been wearing shorts and shirts, silent and obedient. Without a bit of prompting, the girl set out mugs and Hotpie gave them coffee. Only the boy spoke and it was soft and respectful. Then he and the girl went directly back to their work. Tywin never asked about the two pets but he did complement the boys on the way they have kept their home.

Gregor was pleased since Tywin was pleased but he was secretly dancing inside that the pets were able to do what those idiot men couldn't. "Make sure those two get a full physical from Qyburn, I'll pay for any services they need. They just made Tywin happy. Now that they have proven truly useful, make sure you care for them so they can continue to do it." Gregor had grumbled later the next morning when he saw Polivar and Raff.

Thrilled to be finally noticed again, Polivar eagerly took Gregor's advice to heart. Of course, he still bullied, taunted, beat and humiliated Hotpie along with working him like a damned horse.  But he dragged the boy by his neck to the doctor's office and had him checked in every way possible. Hotpie didn't understand why he was suddenly enduring medical torture was only eager to get home.

Raff had Jeyne checked out as well and she just pretended she wasn't there. Qyburn made a note of her elective catatonic behavior but told Raff it wasn't a problem. Raff sneered and said he didn't think it was. "She is stressed by you and all of this. Why wouldn't I let her go inside her head as long as she is behaving? If I need her attention, trust me, I can get it."

With a snap of fingers, Jeyne's eyes went to Raff's and her whole body started to tremble and twitch as reality flooded in. "Good girl. Almost done. You can go back to your safe place now." Qyburn watched as the girl relaxed and her eyes went blank. "You encourage this then?" Raff shrugged. "Sometimes, it's best that way for those in..service." Qyburn said nothing else.

Both pets were given vitamins, cuts or infections, minor injuries all treated.  Hotpie had a splint on a finger that had been broken and twisted the wrong way. Jeyne was given antibiotics because some of the raw beds were her nails used to be tend to get dirt and cleaning products caught in them. Also when Raff goes to his "other" work, he glues fake nails onto the raw beds.

Qyburn said the pets needed to eat better, get some real sun and maybe do light walking for exercise. Also because he noticed that Jeyne's knees were heading into arthritis. She was given medications to help the terrible pain and stiffness. "She is a human, Raff. You must let her walk and stand at least for two hours a day. And the pets must use knee pads on the ground and gloves on their hands during cleaning."

The Masters took the suggestions and now everyday, rain or shine the pets take a two mile walk to family owned farm. They buy fresh produce, fruit, dairy and sometimes even meat. Grocery shopping was done by them, they are driven there and driven back. They carry everything in no matter how heavy the bags are. Both pets are allowed to eat full meals three times a day and are expected to have one shake and two snacks during their day.

If either of them skip a meal or their other items, punishment is swift and hard. Hotpie has lost weight and gained some muscle. He was still heavyset, but losing fifteen pounds was a very big deal to him. Jeyne celebrated with Hotpie, he was so touched that she had noticed. They had bought cupcakes at the grocery store for the men. She had snatched one and they shared it as Hotpie showed off his new muscles.


	48. Lady In The Streets, Whore In The Sheets

King Joff was fixing his cuffs one last time, making sure the diamonds winked just right. His suit cost even more than the cuff links did but Grandfather said they were doing very well. Joff took that as assent to spend it and that was about all he really listened to during that awful boring meeting with his grandfather and Tyrion.

The family meetings were as annoying as the business ones. Not that transferring to his father's position caused any extra work. It was a boring job and gave Joff plenty of time to fuck off. His boring uncle goes on about how our personal lives must stay separate from our public ones.

It gave Joff a great chance to start calling his uncle a hypocrite, being that he is a drunk and has whores everywhere. "Yes, I am a drunk and a whore. But I have never gone to a meeting without being sober and able to follow the conversation until the end of the meeting. "I know when to act like a respectful member of society, it might be a lie, but it is one that is necessary to our family's very survival. You need to be seen acting like a fucking normal human being. With a fiance that doesn't look like a pilgrim that just came out of church."

Joff ignored the advice but he received it from his mother and snapped, "I don't want her looking like you or her damned mother!" Cersei snapped back, "Sansa doesn't have to look like us! But she has to look better than that! I am calling Varys to bring over a fashion consultant for you." Joff thought about just throwing Varys and his fluttery assistants out of the house.

The stylist was not only very respectful but instantly complimented Joff's personal style, so Joff let them in. When the clever man saw Sansa in what Joff considered her best outfit, he didn't outwardly react. Internally the scream was loud and it haunted the man for seven days in his dreams.

He tilted his head as if in consideration then waved his arm while nodding and grinning. "Ah...I see what you were trying to do, Sir." Walking quickly over to Joff, he lowered his head and his voice.

"Sir, the style is fine. You have excellent taste. I wanted to say this quietly because it isn't your style, it is the model. The girl just is built a bit taller and wider naturally, for this style she just can't carry it off. I love this style and have used similar cuts but on Mereen girls that tended towards the very slender and short. I can give you a very close look for your fiance that will bring out her innocent, lovely and conservative side. And of course, I expect you to critique it since you have such an eye for this. I am truly stunned that your mother didn't see it and offer you fashion courses when you were young. Well, then again, when you are rich and ruling the world, what is a dream for me, is a simple hobby for you."

The man began that day to recreate Sansa Stark. Joff had very few objections, mainly about colors or patterns that were too close to what most society wives wear. When the man was done Sansa was different, so different but stunning in a whole new way. Sleet ponytails and tight complicated braided buns were her new hair trademark. Whether day or night, her makeup was impeccable, giving her a fresh vibrant and young look.

Sansa brought back pencil skirts that went to the ankles, blouses with flouncy arms, completed by a tight vest or a long tight waistcoat, sometimes with tails. Also pants that had a high corset waist but the flowed down the leg, almost hiding the high heeled leather boots. Seeing that others started to admire and wear her style, the man went into a frenzy of joy. Her style twisted again and it went from a mix of sixties and nineties to adding the Victorian era.

Next problem was the young couple being invited to everything from fancy charity balls to opening night clubs. He worked in a orgasmic rush of creativity and it was spectacular. The first charity ball that Sansa went to was beyond successful. With an actual antique dress that the man found them was literally a princess dress. With a high collar that swept up high in the back beyond her towering braids, twisting with jewels and tightly wound ribbons.

Her dress was "acquired" from a museum from far away many many years ago and the man had to wait until the owner died before getting it from his attic. It was worn by some Martell Princess that died tragically a long time ago. Sansa's personality sparkled in the way that he and Joff helped encourage. Friendly, warm and polite, Sansa was no mean girl, she was not an icy society woman. She was the leading lady within an hour. It was noticed how affectionate she was with Joff and how she always seemed to like being close to him. It was seen as heartwarming.

Joff's popularity went up and the wedding date loomed closer. At first he was determined to be involved in the wedding, he wanted to make sure it went his way. Until he sat with Sansa, Cersei, Cat,Varys and Petyr.

"Due to the date of the wedding being rushed, we may not have as many options as we would like." Varys began and then he pulled out several thick books full of everything from tablecloths, to catering, to florists, to DJ's, live bands, gifts for the wedding party, and Joff was done.

"I will send you down a list of my wants and dislikes. Whenever you all make a decision on something, let me know to approve it. Thank you." He got up after giving Sansa a peck on the forehead. "You know my preferences, dear." Sansa nodded and smiled at Joff. "Of course I do. I promise you will be pleased."

The group couldn't find an appropriate holding for a small, private wedding. All the places that had any openings were too small and private. After some discussion and a text from Sansa to Joff it was decided the wedding would happen on the lovely estate itself. The Baratheon yard and Lannisters is quite huge and forest surrounded the yards. Calls were made by all to different services then they decided to stop working to eat lunch. They all delicately picked at salad and small sandwiches, they drank wine and Sansa had a cup of tea.

Petyr asked a question. "Dearest girl, I have to say, I wonder at your choice for the wedding party. Are you and Joff sure this is the wedding party for you?" Sansa looked up innocently.

"Well, Arya is my sister so she is maid of honor, Tommen is Joff's best man. We were going to either skip it or just add random cousins. But Joff considers Tickler his good friend and wishes him to stand for him. So I needed to ask Walda Frey to make it even. But just two looks strange. And the Tyrell twins look wonderful in public. I have kept in touch with Margeary, she is kind to me and really seems to like Joff. Now I have learned they are under stressful times. I was hoping to give them a little fun to distract them from their problems."

Varys choked a bit on his wine and Cat swallowed her whole glassful and refilled it. "Sansa, darling, I have been over this with  you." Cersie spoke as if she was telling a preschooler something for the umpteenth time. "Margeary is trying to win her former lover back from you. Loras has a drug habit that is killing them both. They can offer you nothing but trouble. I know Joff has created this new you but to just be a saint to everyone...it has limits, you know that."

Cat leaned forward and when she spoke, she sent plumes of wine that made Sansa dizzy. "Sansa, why don't I contact that nice girl you used to pal with, Jeyne, right? I remember you were very close with her when you girls were in school." Her chin raised high, Sansa spoke to her mother in soft but chilling tones. "Jeyne is no longer reachable. The twins can serve their purpose. To look pretty and bring a little dazzle to the ceremony. Joff and I have decided. End of the subject." Petyr gave a slight smirk as he began to pull out cloth swatches for table cloths.

Joff received Sansa's texts during the meeting and approved or disapproved things. The fashion designer stopped by to get new measurements for the wedding attire. He complimented Joff on his physique and then made sure he had all of Joff's wishes for his wife's dress down before he left. "I shall return with your outfit in two days. I will also begin to design a wedding dress for a girl about to marry a prince." He trilled as he left and Joff gave an unwilling grin back. "I have no idea why I like you, but I do. See you in two days, Jaq. Thanks again."  

Tickler brought some new movies for Joff to watch. "Saw Sansa at the meeting. She looks tired and harried but is holding her own. Every wish you had the girl has fought them for. Sansa sips her tea, smiles nicely but the second they try their tricks or slyness she shows that clever bit of her you have preserved. Truly, you couldn't have MADE a better bride for you. I have never seen a man manage to train a girl so fast, Joff."

Laughing, Joff sneered, "My father was a drunken dick. But he had one saying that I didn't understand really, until now." Tickler offered a whiskey and asked, "Oh, what is that?" "When you marry, make sure of two big things. Make sure she is connected to wealth and power and make sure she can be a lady in public and a whore in the bedroom. Maybe dad would be proud of the fact that I have that. Except the things I do in the bedroom, he probably never thought of."  

That night Jeyne cowered under the table when Raff and Tickler had a shouting match.

"THIS IS NOT A FUCKING HOBBY, TICKLER! I HAVE TO ACCOUNT TO MY FATHER FOR EVERYTHING. I CAN HIDE ONE OR TWO LOSSES BUT ENOUGH IS ENOUGH! YOU WANT JOFF TO HAVE ANOTHER GIRL, YOU PAY ME FOR IT OR GET SOMEONE ELSE TO DO IT! AND NOW YOU TELL ME THAT HE JUST KILLED THE FUCKING UPSTAIRS MAID? I TRAINED THAT GIRL MYSELF FOR THE JOB, SHE WAS PERFECT! WHAT DID SHE DO TO PROVOKE HIM? BREATHE, BLINK? NO, I WON'T REPLACE HER, THERE WASN'T A FUCKING WARRANTY. THEY WANT A NEW MAID THEY PAY ME FOR IT! FUCK OFF!"

 


	49. No More Pussyfooting Around

Cat had asked Petyr to walk her home and then invited him inside for a quick drink as it was evening. "That was a very intense wedding planners meeting. I never had one that lasted so long with so many rejections in my life. I believe my pride is barely intact." Sniffed the elegant man as he seemed to glide next to her. The long black fur cloak that Cat was wearing luckily had a hood and she put it up. Fog was heavy in the damp air and they went past The Barracks to cross over to Stark land.

Hotpie was just putting out the trash and saw the two figures going by. He ran inside and clutched Jeyne who was doing dishes. "I just saw a vampire and the fucking Grim Reaper walking by outside! It has to be the Apocalypse like I told you! We are going to have to learn how to survive in the land and to fend off vampires." Jeyne snorted and silently laughed.

Unfortunately for Hotpie, Polivar was sitting there tormenting Loras over being so late with payments. He heard it and began to taunt Hotpie over his supernatural fears. Loras was so thrilled not to be the target and desperate for Polivar to give him anything to make this fucking detoxing end. He joined in and within moments they had Hotpie in tears. They made him wear a necklace of garlic, eat all the Popsicles fast to make tiny crosses.

Then they acted out with Polivar as the Grim Reaper and Loras as the vampire how Hotpie would survive them. Jeyne was forced into the game, she had no interest in the sadistic game but had no choice. Unless Raff himself was there to say no, Jeyne had no voice and she would never dare to anger one of them. Jeyne lasted the longest against them simply by finding a hiding place they couldn't reach. Hotpie not only lost but was figuratively killed.

He was given three chances at the game and each time he died. So Polivar had him dig out a hole in the wet foggy yard without assistant of anything but the small porch light. When the hole was dug Hotpie had to sit in it with his eyes shut and pretend he is dead. After Polivar made Loras grovel a little more, he gave the sickening junkie what he wanted. Loras scuttled off and Polivar went to retrieve his pet.

Sneaking up on him slowly, Polivar crawled up and lunged. The boy had done as he was told, he had his eyes shut. Of course, Hotpie heard Polivar coming but his mind kept telling him what if it was the vampire, the reaper, or worse? When teeth suddenly sunk into his neck, Hotpie screamed and pissed himself. Polivar laughed for a full hour as Hotpie stood in the shower sobbing.

Petyr was sipping his whiskey and joking with Cat about the dreadfulness of dealing with Joff and Cersei. He thought nothing of it when Ned entered the room. Smiling broadly at both of them, Ned boomed out, "Well, was it as bad as you feared it would be, darling?" Cat stood up and gave Ned a kiss on the cheek. "It was horrible. It was hard enough to pull off a wedding so fast, but with Joff constantly sending his damned demands, it was a challenge."

Ned stood next to the desk, quite close to Petyr and instead of sitting down Cat moved closer. Petyr wasn't stupid and he bolted for the door. Petyr has never had the experience of having an angry moose during rut season attack him. He was fairly sure it was very close to having Ned land on him. Petyr had a small moment to experience the beautiful craftsmanship of the door before he found himself studying the sturdy, over-polished wood of the floor.

Then he was lifted far too easily for his own taste and he discovered this moose had fists. Ned knew the best places to land a punch and Petyr discovered why. After some good blows to his kidneys that sent Petyr into screaming, Ned gave one hard punch into Petyr's bladder, making the man piss himself. He heard a clank then Ned threw him into a sitting position on a metal folding chair. Of course, I am bleeding and am covered in piss, must protect the nice furniture, he thought dizzily.

Ned hovered over him like a nuclear weapon ready to be launched and Cat stood in front of Petyr, eyes cold as winter. "My best friend." She sneered. "You took away my custody of my daughter? You married her, an underage girl to Ramsay Bolton. Was it consummated?" Petyr struggled but then gave a begrudging nod. Cat's small fist came without warning. The pain was an engulfing wave but it was actually the crunch of delicate bones that made Petyr vomit on himself.

He was yanked straight again in the chair. Ned knelt in front of him and Petyr flinched. "Cat, go get me a small washcloth for his nose." Nodding, Cat rubbed her sore hand and stormed off. "Petyr...you have been a part of our lives for a long time. You know how I feel about you, it has never been a secret. But I have never interfered in your friendship, in your continual presence and input into our lives. I have never thought well of you, but I never once would have thought you would do something to hurt your own best confidant. Cat could bury you with all she knows of you, Petyr. I could bury you in the true literal sense. So why?"

"I am loyal to the North and to your wife, Ned." Every word came out muffled and slurred but the emotion was there. "It was the only way to save Arya. Twyin is not just taking over, man. He is going to keep your daughters and exterminate the rest of you. I heard him, he trusts me because I help his daughter more than Varys does now. And I have kept his son busy out of bars and known whorehouses by giving him private entertainment." Cat came in and silently handed a damp rag to Petyr then sat on a nice chair nearby.

"I was there when he said he wanted to marry Arya to the dwarf. It isn't like begging him to reconsider would work, Ned. I didn't have any other immediate answer! So I said it would look better if she married someone a little closer to her own age. Marrying her to a man Tyrion's age would look obscene and be a scandal. I said that Roose is desperate to get some ties with the Freys who were friends with the Lannisters now more than us! I convinced Tywin that it would solidify things for him with Roose if he gave him a connection to the Freys. Also, having Ramsay and Arya marry solidified her connection to the North. It was the best I could do to save her in the moment!"

Ned nodded and grimly replied, "Thank you for the truth, Petyr. I understand you wished to keep Arya with a strong northern tie and I also understand how important the right connections are to you. So now he has Roose too as well as my daughters? Who else was involved in this sickening event?"

Petyr held the rag to his bleeding, broken nose and winced at the pain. "Walder Frey and his son were there with his daughter Walda to marry Roose. Roose had brought Ramsay and Locke with him. Arya came with Gregor Clegane. The three younger ones were not told of the wedding until it was too late to back out."

Petyr paused then his voice softer than before he continued. "After the wedding, Ramsay and Arya were brought to a motel by Gregor. They were told it was to be a marriage in name only except for this one time. As expected both were rebelling against the idea of...so Roose had made Robb bring Ramsay's pet to the motel. He held him a small room nearby. Gregor told Ramsay that he wasn't getting his pet back until the act was completed. Uh..Gregor had a camera installed in the room so he could watch to make sure Arya wasn't injured. He said..it was willing on both ends. She wasn't hurt. Ramsay left immediately after and they haven't spoken since."

Cat was now standing next to Ned and they looked like predators about to eat their prey. In her nice cultured voice Cat asked, "I think I heard you wrong, Petyr. Did you say Robb? Did you say that Roose Bolton involved my firstborn son in this mess? That Robb knew what was about to happen to Arya and did nothing? I don't believe that, friend. Try again."

Petyr groaned and muttered, "Yes, it was your son. I don't know what Roose threatened him with to get him to do it. I am sure that Robb was not willing, I have not spoken to him and I did not see him. I only heard it through Walder Frey during tea the next day. I was only there long enough to explain to Arya what was happening and to give the paperwork for signing."

Cat and Ned walked away for a second to speak alone, but Petyr knew better than to try and leave. Not to mention he wasn't sure if he could walk upright yet. Petyr watched warily as Cat approached him.

"You should have tried to reach us. You could have reached me the second you left that meeting with Tywin. You chose to go behind my back. You gave my second daughter, my young daughter away as a child bride. We are not friends anymore, Petyr. Our relationship has shifted to a new chapter. I am now going to see you as not just a wedding coordinator I must work with. I am also going to see you as our informant. And the first time you stop being an informant, our relationship will change again. Because I will be standing over your grave grieving the loss of my friend." 


	50. Bro, I feel you Bro...

Ramsay led his men into the Wildling bar and Reek scuttled right behind him. Reek was watching the floorboards mechanically counting his steps to their usual booth. When Ramsay stopped short, Reek almost bumped into him and gave a tiny squeak of surprise. Then he looked up and saw they were next to what had always been Robb's booth. In the booth was Tyrion Lannister, Podrick and some new scruffy dangerous looking man.

"Why are you sitting here?" Ramsay's voice was cold and clipped. Tyrion tilted his head as if giving this question deep consideration. "It is a booth within a bar that I decided I liked. So I am sitting in the booth as I believe is its normal function. And enjoying my drink which I will pay for. Don't worry, I can afford the luxury of sitting while drinking." He gave a winning smile to Ramsay and continued to drink his wine.

"I meant, why this booth? You know it belongs to Robb Stark." Tyrion showed fake surprise upon Ramsay's words and replied dramatically, "Oh, does it? My deepest apologies then. Funny though, because if this is Robb Stark's booth then why is he not in it? He is beyond that curtain over there instead. He must have found a better booth. I'll just keep this one functional until Robb wants it back."

Snarling, Ramsay got closer to the dwarf but Damon snapped, "Ramsay, we don't have time for this. If he is here to spy, I'll just rip his fucking ears off now." The scruffy man was suddenly pointing a gun at them all and he drawled out in a eastern accent, "Now see...I have a problem with that bit. Seems a bit extreme to rip someone's ears off over a fucking booth."

Tyrion gave a small gesture. "Building my entourage. You know Pod my personal assistant and driver. This is Bronn, he is my bodyguard and an excellent drinking partner. My father's men would only protect me if I was being injured or killed in a way that would make my father look bad. Otherwise, they would personally beat the shit out of me and bury me if they could. So would my sister and father. So I don't really give a fuck if you are having some secret meeting. I am here to drink and just wish to use this most comfortable booth. So why don't you scuttle along before the other boy scouts already get their badges and you miss yours?" Ramsay stared at the dwarf then at Bronn. He sneered, "You aren't worth our trouble." Bronn put the gun away as the boys filed into the back room.

Petyr groaned as Varys came gliding into his luxury condo. "The maid let you in? She is fired. Tell her on your way out, please." Varys clucked his tongue against the roof of his mouth. "How rude of you. It must be the pain talking. And if you want better servants I have told you before that I have the very best connection for that." With a snort of disgust, Petyr said, "Oh yes. Because what I need is to start using slaves for domestics in the fiercely free North." Varys gave a tiny smile and replied, "You peddle children if someone wishes it. This is less reprehensible if you are caught at it then giving a slave a better life? You don't exactly give your employees rags to wear a feed them a crust of bread once a day." 

"Let me tell you why I am here before you become rude again. Here, fix your ice pack, looking at that nose is making me sick. You need to have a proper plastic surgeon see that. Those E.R. hacks at that slum hospital you used three cities away made no effort to really fix that, did they?"  Varys gave Petyr a look of pity as he sat carefully on Petyr's antique chair. Petyr lay on the couch and stared at Varys with one glittery eye. "It is all ending soon for the fierce folks of yours. It doesn't matter that Ned and Cat know about Ramsay and Arya. It is already over and it is just corpse retrieval soon. You should really consider moving an to another area....or perhaps there is another option open for you." Varys paused as he saw a loose thread on his cuff.

Reek sat curled on his Master's lap and listened to the men argue and plot. Torumund, Mance and Styr were Wildlings ready for vengeance over one of their own, Ygritte, as well as take back the North. Jon was there but he seemed to be there more with these men than his own brother. Myranda and Ros have forced their way into the meeting. Robb, Harald Karstark, Skinner, Damon and Ramsay completed the table of angry, bitter Northerners. He was floating away on the pain medications his Master has so kindly allowed him. Ever since the night that Alyn died, Damon lost Jeyne and they had to hunt Kyra, Ramsay has been miserable. Since Ramsay was forced into marriage and his father got his own child bride pregnant, he has been tormented.

This was passed onto Reek. Poor Master, he would yell about how he didn't have any choice in the decisions. How he never wanted to marry or sleep with Arya. How Kyra and Jeyne were not his fault. He raged about his father replacing him with new children. Ramsay screamed at Reek that the North will rise again that he will see to it. Reek agrees, he eagerly says that only Ramsay can save the North and Reek knows that none of this was his Master's fault. Sometimes it appeases and other times Ramsay hurts him anyway. What doesn't change is Reek's belief in his Master. He feels Ramsay's pain almost as his own and if his Master allowed him to help he would gladly help his Master kill them all. Not that Ramsay would allow that. No, Reek will be left behind, as Jeyne would have been. 

Rubbing his face gently along Ramsay's soft shirt, Reek let sentences float by him. "What about Roose and Ned?" "I mean, we have allowed the elders to do something and instead...one becomes a traitor and the other a fucking pacifist!" We cannot let them get in our way." Reek's chest rumbled when Ramsay replied grimly to the men, "I will take care of my father personally." Ramsay's heavy hand gently began to pat his messy curls and Reek leaned into the touch. He didn't even flinch when he heard Robb's voice next. "I will deal with my father. I will create a distraction for him so he will be out of the way."

Damon snorted then took a large swig of his drink. "What about Arya or Sansa? Will they help us? We need them to help us from the inside." Robb and Jon exchanged a look with Ramsay. Shaking his head, Robb gave a humorless grin. "Arya wants nothing to do with her husband. Or her family. She is busy with her new world learning to fight against us. Sansa is totally brainwashed and beaten by Joff and his family. We cannot trust either of them anymore." Damon sneered. "How easy so many turned traitor on their own family and friends. Roose, Ned, Sansa and Arya all in one swoop. What is the this fucking power the Lannisters have that turns proper northern folk into southern pawns?"

With a small whimper of unease, Reek pressed into Ramsay. He was not normally afraid of the boys since he became Ramsay's good Reek, but Damon has changed. Reek fears the new Damon. Since Jeyne was given away to Raff, Damon was drinking more than he ever did. He also has become more violent, more acidic than Reek has ever seen him. "My main goal is to get my girl out of there first." He has told everyone several times. Damon has described Jeyne three times as if no one knew what she looked like. He was gaunt and pale with haunted eyes. Reek hoped that they saved Jeyne. He misses her terribly as much as he misses his happier, nicer Master. The meds still worked their magic, even more after Ramsay held a strong drink for Reek to sip at.

More words floated by but Reek didn't float with them, Ramsay held him tightly against him. "Three days until Sansa's wedding party dinner, that is when we will strike. Most of the men will be at the party to guard them. We can attack the Barracks, extract Jeyne and Arya's little friend Hotpie. Kill whomever is with them, whoever didn't work that night. Set the Barracks on fire to draw them out. As the boys come out, half of us will finish them off. The other half will sneak past inside. Another break and anyone in Tywin's house that isn't a servant dies. We shall attack the Baratheon's house, the rest who are setting fires or killing Mountain men will join us when they are finished." Announced Ramsay. Then Reek heard nothing as he dozed in Ramsay's lap.


	51. Hell of a Storm Brewing

Varys looked up at the rumbling sky and frowned slightly. He snapped his fingers and the young silent boy next to him quickly opened an umbrella over the bald head.  Moving into the windy day, Varys crossed the street and went into the fancy little restaurant. His young assistant had shut the umbrella, held the doors and was now quietly speaking to the lady at the ornate desk. She looked over at Varys, smiled politely and led him into a private back room. A small waterfall graced one wall and the others were glass leading towards a gated garden patio deck.

As he sat on the cold hard chair left at the full table, Varys commented, "What your North has in beauty gets lost in the cold hard discomforts. If the restaurant wishes folks to sit out here, they should offer some padding on the seats or at least a brazier to warm us."  A small smile played on plump lips. "Why thank you for that compliment to our North. I often imagine it as a cold beauty, like a lovely young lady that might kill you at any moment." Petyr snorted and rolled his eyes. Varys shifted his gaze to Petyr and smirked. "I am so glad that you decided to join us after all."

Petyr snarled and drank deeply, finishing his glass of wine. Varys merely smiled and sipped at his wine. "Were you able to obtain what was needed?" "Yes. I pray you are able to pull this off. If not and you turn me in as the person who obtained this for you, I swear to God, I'll turn evidence against both of you. Hear me?" He shoved four tiny bottles full liquid towards the girl he felt was entirely too calm. She put on gloves before taking the bottles and making them disappear. "Why so upset, Petyr? I figured you would be proud of me." The voice was tinged with amusement.

Raff knocked on the study door and swallowed thickly. It was never good to be called to Tywin Lannister's study. He and Dusten stood there trying to understand what they might have done wrong. How badly will Gregor hurt them for it and worse, how far from his graces will they fall? Gregor himself opened the door and his face told them nothing. Tywin was at his desk writing something. Gregor gestured for the boys to stand in front of the desk and wait. After a moment the imposing older man spoke.

"I understand that there is some minor issues concerning product price, your father and our needs. I have taken the liberty to contact your father, Raff. He and I have spoken prices and what I shall require of you. As he has always been, he was reasonable. So, here is your check, young man. This will cover both the cost for a new servant for Sansa, as well as the monthly needs of my grandson. Now, if you have any other concerns, you can tell me now and we can call your father on speaker phone to resolve it."

Seething inside, how DARE they go over his head and call his father? How will that look later on when he gives his usual report to his father? Who will now think his son is fucking incompetent! Shaking his head, Raff managed to mutter, "No Sir. No concerns. Thank you for the check. I will have the new maid to you within a few days. I have been working with her and she is nearly ready." Tywin nodded, still having not looked up from his work once. "Excellent. You may go then." Raff nodded and stiffly turned and left the room before allowing the rage to show on his face.

Dusten stood and waited as the man spoke again, still scribbling on paper. "You are the one guarding my daughter? The one who has reported to Gregor that she is dallying with one of Ned's drivers?" Dusten nodded then remembered Tywin wasn't looking up at him. "Yes Sir. It was only once and I stayed nearby in case Cersei was in need of discretion upon trying to return home." Nodding, Tywin asked mildly, "And have you enjoyed her..talents? Or have you flirted with her in anyway?"

"No Sir. I have only been respectful and done my job, I swear it." Tywin finally looked up as if to assess the man. "You are handsome, blonde and young. Her perfect type, it must be driving her mad that you've never tried anything with her. I know Gregor had ordered you not to attempt anything with my daughter. I am now telling you I want you to keep her entertained. Keep her from sleeping around town....anyway you need to. If she must sleep with the help, it must be with someone discreet...like her own personal guard."  Dusten gave a polite nod and a small smile. "Of course, Sir. As you wish."

Rickon looked up at the two folks he trusted in this shitty world. "Are..are you sure this is for the best?" Robb nodded firmly and Jon tried to give the boy a confident smile. "Yes, here is your backpack. I filled it with everything you'll want or need. Listen, until things calm down around here its just not safe for you. We want to save at least one member of our family from what is coming. Now this is five hundred dollars and here is the train ticket." Robb tucked the ticket into Rickon's hand and the money into his pocket then hugged him tightly. "Good luck and try to stay safe."

Jon grabbed the boy next ad hugged him. "Listen, you stay on this route until you get to the Reach. My buddy Sam is going to be waiting there. He will take good care of you, alright? Now go on." Taking a deep breath, Rickon got on the train and watched his brothers go by...then he watched the trees blur past until the rain made everything too blurry to see. Jon and Robb looked at each other with guilt and relief. "Okay, let's go tell Dad that Rickon has run away." Robb shook his head. "I don't care much for mother, but I hate hurting her this way.  She will think Rickon is hurt or dead when they can't find him." Jon spit on the ground and replied bitterly, "Yeah, wouldn't want to see Cat hurt."

The Barracks door slammed hard enough to cause Hotpie to jump and break a glass. "JEYNE!" Now it was the girl who jumped as she dropped the cheese and grater. She went down to her hands and knees and crawled to Raff. Peeking up, her heart sunk low and tears began to stream as Jeyne's small frame shook. The anger on his face has made him look like some sort of avenging demi god. As Raff wrapped a length of thin chain around his fist, Jeyne groveled silently for mercy. As the metal whipped into her flesh, Jeyne knew no mercy was coming. Whatever or whoever may have angered Raff, it was Jeyne that was going to cry and beg for it.

Tickler came in to find Raff whipping his screaming girl in the parlor. Smiling he went into the kitchen and saw HotPie trying to clean broken glass on the floor. HotPie whimpered when he saw Tickler's boots in front of his kneeling frame. A small sliver of glass sunk into one of his fingers and he winced. "Uh oh...clumsy Piggy. What would Polivar do if I told him you broke another one of the glasses?" Dropping his head low, HotPie starts to sob. He could barely hear Tickler's words over Jeyne's screaming which as now dissolved into actual hoarse words.

Whenever Raff hurts Jeyne, she is allowed as many words as she would like. He likes to hear her beg and scream for mercy. HotPie knows that the sound of her agony is about be joined by his own. Raff is Jeyne's demi god and Tickler is HotPie's boogeyman. Anytime Polivar is not around and Tickler is, HotPie is fair game. Within seconds the house was fill of the sounds of misery. The pets do not run from their tormentors nor do they dare to fight back. Jeyne covers her head and screams that she is sorry, that she will try harder, that she loves and worships her master.

HotPie sobs harder with every thrust and his face is being ground into the small glass shards as Tickler rips his insides apart with his cock. Tickler makes HotPie squeal as if he is a real pig and the boy tries to find a safe place in his head to leave to. _I can't do this anymore, I can't take more of this. I can't hear Jeyne scream anymore, I can't hear myself, feel this forever, it is too much to ask of anyone. I know where Polivar's weapons are..one shot and it's over for me. As soon as Tickler is done, I will crawl upstairs like I always do. No one will think I am doing anything more than sobbing in the bathroom. Polivar can figure out how to get my blood and body out of his room, but he will never get the stench out._ The thought was almost enough to get HotPie through it.

Loras was drenched. His last good pair of shoes were being ruined as he slogged through dirty puddles, heading towards the rich section of town. He needed to beg Polivar for more, to let him use another tab, after all he DID pay him back finally. Maybe he can convince Polivar that if he let Loras suck his cock, it could feel as good as his sister. A black car pulled up next to him and the window rolled down to show a grinning Ramsay. "Hey, you look soaked. Get in, looks like you are heading the same way." Hesitating, Loras wondered if Ramsay was looking for a flaying victim, he has heard stories. Then he watched as Ramsay lit a joint and inhaled deeply. "Yes or no? Want a ride?" Loras leaped into the passenger seat with a soggy thump.

He was offered the joint and he smoked the whole thing as Ramsay drove. Loras wasn't really surprised when Ramsay pulled off the main road onto the lesser used forest path. The weed had helped with the worst of the withdrawal symptoms and his head was foggy, detached and a bit dreamy. "Are you going to kill me?" His voice sounded calm but there was a thread of panic growing in there. Ramsay laughed and shook his head. "No...I have an offer to make. I need information...by the looks of you, you need some relief." Ramsay held out the baggie. It contained several joints, two bottles full of Oxycontin and four balloons of heroin. "Enough to get you through the wedding party and the wedding. Or enough to kill you. All I need...is to know a little about the Barracks and the men's schedules. No one will ever know."

Polivar had finished his shift and heading home. He told Piggy to make that garlic cheese dish he liked and Polivar hopes its almost done by now. He is starving. Opening the door, the first thing he heard was Jeyne begging for mercy in broken sobs and then he heard another a yelp that was his own pet. Walking into the kitchen, Polivar stopped, seeing Hotpie on his knees, ass up, his bloody face grinding into broken glass.  Tickler was raping the Piggy, grinding and thrusting in rough painful ways to make the boy squeal.

Tickler was having a grand old time and instead of a beer and good dinner, Polivar had to deal with this fucking shit. He knocked Tickler off HotPie and the man clutched his cock and came hard on the floor. "You fucking disgusting piece of shit! You can clean up your own fucking come stains! I didn't say you could fuck my pet! Do it again and I swear to every God, I'll break your fucking hands."


	52. Crash Down, Snap In Half

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> warning: deadpool reference coming up. sorry. had to do it. sorry. ::shifts blue crocs and clutches stuffed unicorn::

Polivar delivered a hard kick into the shuddering Tickler's back, knocking the still recovering man face first into his own cooling semen. "Sick fucker! Now look at this fucking mess! Fuck!" He kicked the man again then he turned to see HotPie trying to pull his shorts over his bleeding ass.

With a curse, Polivar yanked the boy to his feet by his leather collar then swore again when he saw his blood covered, glass encrusted face. "Shit. Look what you fucking did, asshole! You are paying the fucking bill from Qyburn! Hear me! And if Qyburn tells me that Piggy needs stitches up his ass, I am going to beat you till you need the fucking hospital!"

Jerking on his collar, Polivar dragged his sobbing, bleeding pet out the door and towards the clinic near Tywin's house. "You stupid little idiot, why didn't you tell me he was doing that to you? A little beating is one thing...but you aren't a whore..you are a piggy. You should have told me. Didn't you clue in to that the night you nearly blew me to stay alive and I told you to stay away from my cock?" Polivar stopped when HotPie muttered, "I didn't think you would care, Master."

Grabbing his hair by the roots, Polivar lifted the boy's head so he would look him in the eyes. "I am your owner. No one else. If anyone else fucks with you like that you tell me. You tell me anything and everything, I am your Master. You don't keep anything from me, ever. If I knew Tickler was doing that, I would have kicked his ass and ended it. I protect what is mine, Piggy."

Looking into the lost, sad eyes, Polivar forced his sneer into a sharp smile. He rubbed the sore parts of the scalp on the boy where he yanked his hair then pulled the boy into a hard hug. "Aww..you dumb, defenseless kid. What would you do without me? I'll never let that raging chode touch you anymore. For now on, I want you to tell me everything that goes on around here. It will help me keep you safe, since you can't tell what is safe or not. Don't worry, Polivar will take care of you, Piggy."

He spun the boy around and pulled him towards the clinic again. "Now let's get you all fixed up. Hey, I'll have Qyburn weigh you! That will cheer you up, won't it? You have lost some flesh, pretty soon no one will get the joke of your name but us!" Laughing, Polivar slapped his pet on the back and got a tiny smile in return. "There ya go! Good boy."

There was not only a myriad of tiny cuts across the boy's face but he needed stitching in the worst of places after all. Polivar made sure that the doctor gave the boy Novocaine. "I'm not giving him anything else, you have enough of your own supply to offer. But whoever is using the boy needs to be more careful. One or two more times like this I'll be doing surgery and giving him a colostomy bag."

Polivar picked glass out of his pet's sweaty hair as the boy sobbed at the thought of a colostomy bag. "Don't you worry, Piggy. Already told you, it won't be happening ever again. Relax, huh?" When it was over, Polivar had to nearly carry the boy back home. In fact, near the house, the boy collapses and Polivar found himself hoisting the boy in a fireman's hold. "Well, thank the fucking gods that you have lost weight." Polivar chuckled and carried his pet into the house. He gently put the piggy on his own feet in the kitchen.

Tickler was cleaning the mess on the floor whistling some pop song. Polivar ignored him while he tended to his pet. "Hey, wake up. Hey, look up at your Master. Don't ignore me, Piggy." He spoke sharply to the boy who seemed to be greying in and out. Focusing on Polivar's eyes, Hotpie gave a tiny sob and babbled, "Sorry, Master. Sorry, didn't mean to...I will get back to work, I will get your supper." Sighing, Polivar sat in his usual chair and pulled his black box closer as well as the boy.

"You can finish making my dinner in a minute. First I am going to give you something to make you clearer. And another something that will help with the pain. Doctor said worst of your pain will last a few day. So for three days, you are going to get stuff to make you feel better. Then it ends and if you ever ask me for it or try to take it from my box or anyone else, I'll break both your legs. Do you hear me?" Hotpie nodded and swayed on his feet, causing Polivar to grab his collar to steady him.

A pill then a quick injection and the pain was gone or at least it wasn't concerning him anymore. He stood straight and felt a bolt of energy go through him. I am going to cook the shit out of dinner, he thought and giggled at his own thought. Polivar grinned and drawled out, "High as fuck, huh? Well, you deserve a little comfort after what you've been through, Piggy. You are my good Piggy, aren't you?" Hotpie grinned back and nodded. "Yes Master."

Polivar gave a nod towards the counter full of ingredients that were abandoned. "You get cooking while I deal with cocksucker? Go on." Eagerly, the boy nodded and went back to the comforts of culinary work. He grated, he chopped in a blur then began to boil water, add stock and vegetables. The veal was added along with crushed cloves of garlic, he boiled noodles and he watched the humiliation of his boogeyman.

Raff held his sore arm as Jeyne groveled at his feet. He was calmer and he looked down at the girl and was relieved to see he stopped before real damage was done. He made sure to keep away from her head and neck and only in a few places did he break skin. Her legs, stomach, back and arms have black or purple chain link striped that wound around her thin frame. He rolled his shoulder and massaged his arm before he knelt down and picked Jeyne up. She cried and he squeezed her against his chest.

"Hush, I'm not angry anymore. You took it well, I'll let you have something to feel better. Then you can even have a bath tonight for being a good girl." He cooed at her as Jeyne tried to take what comfort she could. Jeyne cuddled into Raff and remembered that it was over and went as silent as she could. He entered the kitchen hearing Polivar's voice to ask for something for his little pet. He had heard the commotion coming from the kitchen earlier but wasn't able to stop his own rage to see what was happening.

"What the fuck did I miss in here? Polivar, give me something for Jeyne." Raff sat in a chair keeping Jeyne on his lap, letting her lean against him. Polivar had just directed his now stoned and fast flying pet towards the counter. Raff took in the sight of Tickler cleaning what looks like glass, blood and then he grimaced. "What the fuck? Who came on the floor?" Polivar handed him two pills and beer. Raff put the pills in Jeyne's mouth, then tilted the bottle so she could swallow them.

"There, lay your head on my shoulder and let that work. Good girl." Raff told her and gently petted her long hair as she trembled in pain. "Well, Francis here decided my Piggy was his personal fuck toy. Cut Piggy's face to hell and nearly caused the boy to need a colostomy bag. Hear that, you degenerate! You fucking rancid pus filled pimple? Almost made him need to shit in a bag, what the fuck is wrong with you? Six stitches asshole. You remember what I said I'd do if my slave needed stitches up his ass, Francis?"

Tickler stood up warily and growled out, "Don't fucking call me that. That isn't my name anymore. I'll pay the bill when Qyburn sends it and I won't fuck your pet anymore. Now l cleaned the mess and am going out for a drink. So fuck you." He stomped towards the hall but Polivar sent out one leg, making him stumble. "No. We aren't fucking done, Francis. I told you before not to touch Piggy and you ignored me. SO maybe you need fucking incentive to listen. Polivar stood up and started to try and circle Tickler, who crouched and followed him.

Raff smirked and looked down at Jeyne, who's eyes were starting to glaze a little. "Feeling better?" Jeyne nodded and timidly peeked up at her Master. He nodded and stood up, carrying her over to where the boy was cooking. "If she isn't too stoned for it, have her help you. If she is too fucked up, have her just stand here." Raff whispered to the cringing boy as he got close. Hotpie nodded and gave Jeyne a whisk and a bowl of pesto sauce. "Here, do this for me." Jeyne began to whisk as she joined Hotpie in pretending not to watch Tickler's punishment.

Tickler groaned when Raff came to the other side and blocked off the other exit to the room. "That is the exact shit I was thinking you'd do to my girl if given the chance. Now that I know you didn't honor Polivar's wishes, it makes me nervous, buddy. Nervous that you might even THINK to touch Jeyne. What happened? Did you run out of whores that would let you touch them you fucking troll? Huh? No late night girls walking home from work that you could snatch downtown? Or did Ramsay hunt them all already? Afraid to challenge the north men for their women, is that is Francis?" "STOP CALLING ME THAT!" Screamed Tickler as he threw himself at Raff.

Polivar came up behind him and punched his kidneys before getting the Tickler in a headlock. It took both Raff and Polivar to get Tickler over the table and his pants ripped down. "Francis, this is to help remind you what will happen if you fuck with our pets. We will fuck with you." Polivar snapped for HotPie to give him cooking oil and a glove that they use for washing dishes. Polivar liberally poured oil over the glove after he put it on.

Then he proceeded to shove his fist up Tickler's ass with a grimace of amused disgust on his face. "Hey it's my first time too, asshole and you didn't even tell me I was pretty." He joked as the man screamed in pain and humiliation. Raff was kneeling on Tickler's back to keep him flat on the table. "Good thing this is one of those butcher block things or we'd be on the floor. Then we could shove one of the table legs up his ass." Raff laughed and Polivar grinned twisting his fist the way he saw Tickler twisting himself in Piggy.

"How is that, dear? Is that good for you, Francis? Yeah this should make you feel like a properly fucked whore. This is fun, you are right, I love how you scream kind of like a little girl, Francis. Are you deep down a little girl, honey? Want me to give you a kiss, honey?" Polivar ripped his bloody fist out of Tickler. "Do not ever touch my boy again, or next time, I'll make sure you need a colostomy bag. Count yourself lucky that Gregor likes you so much or I'd do so much fucking worse."

"Piggy, throw this glove out. Then clean off this table and finish cooking. You and Jeyne can have full plates, even seconds tonight." Polivar felt generous and beamed as Tickler staggered to his feet. The man pulled up his pants then staggered out the door. "Better see the doc. Looks like you might need some stitches." Raff called after him, laughing. The boy threw the glove away and cleaned the table. "Dinner will be ready in ten minutes, Master." Polivar gave the boy a playful rub of his hair. "Good Piggy." The boy looked up at the man who just destroyed the boogeyman and smiled. "Yes Master." Piggy replied and went to stir the pasta.

Rickon was not only tired and freaked but he was starving. He has heeded his brothers words and stayed on the train even during the breaks. But he was simply too hungry to keep his word. It was nearly dark out, he has been on this stupid train for hours. When it stopped and another fifteen minute break was announced, Rickon got off the train.

There was a small cafe that sold cheeseburgers and soda which Rickon made a beeline for. He ate and drank while standing, sick of sitting. A man approached silently and looked about to make sure that the other tired passengers were paying no attention. One hand on the boys' mouth, an arm wrapped around the boy and a moment later he was gone as if he was never there.


	53. Stop Clowning Around

Rickon had gone to the circus with his family when he was five years old. He has never forgotten it, not any detail and when he is under stress, it surges forth. The cloying smells of cotton candy, burnt popcorn, nuts and elephant shit. The rumble of the crowd, creaking of wooden benches. Shadows surge here and there and above is the yellow linen of a tent that is blocking the sun.

But as much as Rickon loves playing in dirt and leaves, climbing trees with Bran and fake sword fighting with Arya, he was intrigued. All of the others have been here before and described such amazing feats! It was finally his turn and Rickon licked a snow cone holding a blue flashlight that had batteries already living on borrowed time.

The elephants, horses, tigers and monkeys did not disappoint. Sequined men and women flew high above and created a dance on a tightrope. It was interesting, but Rickon's eyes were already closing. He had fun, so much and the colors were starting to get jarring, the crowd too shrill. He felt a bit ill from the hotdog and he wanted to rest for a bit.

Then a terrible sleep shattering honking began, a terrible chorus of high pitched giggling and deep sadistic chuckling. Rickon opened his eyes wide and discovered his first true terror. The painted faces, the fake fuzzy big hair, the greasy, creasing fake smiles.

He had screamed at the top of his lungs, climbed, scrambled, kicked his father in the face nearly breaking his nose. Rickon was blind in hysterical panic. Many hands tried to grab at him, voices trying to call to him but it was the CLOWNS they were trying to EAT HIM! It took the family a half an hour to find him. Rickon was under the car shaking, crying and panting.

When his father looked under the car, Rickon thought it might be a clown. He had pissed himself and fainted. When he woke up, he was in the car, wrapped in blanket without anything but his shirt on. His brother Robb was holding him tightly. All the kids had their eyes staring coldly towards the front seat. Rickon's parents were looking only forward as his father drove them home. 

When Rickon was grabbed at the train station he was too stunned to do anything. His first thought was it was a fucking clown but he saw a real hand. Clowns wear gloves. It didn't help his panic any when a bag was put over his head and he was tossed into a van and restrained. The only conversation was the man made a shushing sound when Rickon tried to talk or resist.

During the ride, he heard nothing but the road underneath him, cars passing by. The man had duct taped his hands and and ankles. Then to Rickon's great confusion the man gave him a nice pat on the cheek as if to reassure him. "Ah fuck...not a clown but a pedo..man, listen, I have money..you don't want to do this! Hey my uncle can help you get anything you want okay? Peytr? Ever hear of him? Hey, stop!"

The man had begun to make a grunting sound and tap at the boy's lips under the bag. Rickon gagged at the fingers and stopped talking. The fingers went away. A door slammed, the engine turned and Rickon was off to the circus in his panicked mind. So they drove and Rickon's mind replayed not just the circus, but the time his brothers forced him to watch a movie of killer clowns. They were just having a little fun in their mind, all the way until one part where Rickon pissed the couch while hyperventilating.

Cat nearly murdered Jon and it was one of the few times that Rickon ever saw his mother beat the hell out of Robb, her favorite. She replaced the couch and made the boys burn the movie while Rickon watched. "There. The clowns are gone, Rickon. Say it." Rickon would parrot her words but the clowns were already in his head.

The van stopped, the door slid open and the same big rough hands yanked him out of the van and tossed him down onto a soft rubber thing. Rickon waited, trying not to whimper, hoping not to die today just because he took a break from the train. The hood was ripped off and even though it was dark, he still squinted. A small lantern gave some weak light and Rickon looked around at the small camp.

Then he heard the sound, the honk. _OH NO NO NONONO, CAN'T BE THAT!_ Rickon slowly looked to see two clowns emerging from the woods. One gave a deep throaty chuckle and other had a high pitched giggle. He screamed, trying to back away and he pissed himself. "GET AWAY FROM ME! NO, YOU WON'T FUCKING EAT ME! GET BACK FROM ME!"

Then the clowns slumped to the ground laughing and removed their faces. Rickon thought they were peeling another layer of hell to show him and he screamed again. And stopped, staring, panting, trying to not die of a fucking heart attack as Jojen and Meara were apparently dying of the sadistic joy of a well played prank.

Their "nanny" of a sorts was standing nearby. Hodor was quite large but he was also simple and mostly mute. He could say his name but that seemed to be the extent of his speaking skills. That explained the strange way Hodor tried to comfort and quiet him. "You. Fucking. Assholes." Rickon sobbed and felt the humiliation nearly drown him. "Since your good friend Bran's dead you decide to..to torture me. Nice. Real fucking nice. And he told you my secret about clowns, even better. Real funny, guys. Asshats."

"Aww..don't be like this, kiddo. We are fucking saving your ass..we just wanted a little fun first. Your own brother would have loved this prank and you know it!" Jojen grinned as he cut Rickon loose from the tape.

"Bran, Meara and I had a kind of pact. My sister and I promised your brother that we would watch over you, protect you. This was right after he found out the South was coming here. I think you were the only one he ever really loved...even if he did tell us about your fear of clowns. We saw what your brothers were trying to do. If we saw it, so did others and you never would have made it to Jon's friend."

Meara came a bit closer and gave an amused sneer. "Not to mention, dude...do you know that you walked around clutching all that cash in your bare fucking hand? Between the lost little boy look and the wad of money....you might have been stuck in a ring of fucking robbers, pedophiles and enemies of your family, all killing each other to get a chance at you, sweet tender boy meat. Idiot. So here we are, here you are and we are about to shut down camp and keep driving for a bit. Uh...yeah, we didn't have a chance to grab your luggage so...we can find you some clothes."

Meara and Jojen grinned while Rickon got out of his wet clothes while loudly cursing them.  

Jon hung up the phone and stared blearily at Robb. They had come home, "discovered" Rickon missing and told Ned. He has been out with his men looking for him. Cat had called everyone who knew her son and summoned Petyr with instructions to find her boy with any and every resource he had. Then she stormed out of the house and headed toward the Lannisters home. The boys took the chance to hide in a rarely used den with their father's best whiskey. Then they waited the time it would take for Rickon to reach Sam, they sipped their whiskey and waited for a phone call.

As soon as the ring tone started, both grinned with buzzed grins. Jon answered, then Sam used words he wasn't expecting. "I have searched everywhere. The train got here a hour ago, Jon. He wasn't on it. The conductor says he hasn't seen him since they stopped briefly near Oldtown. I'm sorry. I will search as much as I can but that was the last place he was seen."

Robb stared at Jon as he repeated what Sam had said. "Oh gods, what did we do? Oldtown? That is going to take us at least two hours to get there. We have to sober up fast and go find Rickon. Hurry, come on...right now!" Robb yanked Jon out of the chair and dragged him towards the stairs. They almost made it to the door when Cat appeared before them in her flowing robe that made her look like some lady from another time era.

"Where are you two going? And why do you both smell like your father's whiskey? Instead of being out helping your father search for your little brother this is what you do, Robb? How could you? Go to bed and be prepared to explain this behavior to myself and your father in the morning." Whiskey has given the usual promised bravado and the boys were full of it.

"Oh yeah? Well, what about you, Mother? Do I see that Valium and wine glaze in your eyes? Why aren't YOU out looking for your son?" Robb sneered and Jon snorted, patting Robb on the back in approval. Cat stood at her full height, her sharp chin rose higher and ice broke through the drug haze in her eyes.

"Excuse me?  How dare you question me? I spent all day using my connections to find him! Your father and divide our resources. And I owe you no explanations on anything I do in my life, young man. Now, I want to go to bed so I can be ready for this wedding party tomorrow. You are drunk and need to get your ass to bed. Take the bastard with you." Cat snapped and turned to leave the room.  Jon suddenly broke, it all just broke.

"You fucking heartless cunt." Cat froze, Robb froze and Jon took one step forward his hands curling into fists. Very slowly, they could almost hear the creak of her tendons, Cat turned her head. "What did you say?" Her voice was soft and inquiring as if she misunderstood. Jon couldn't take the out, he can't ever again.

"I said you are a fucking heartless cunt. Your own son is missing and your fucking social status matters more. I don't feel so bad about your shitty stepmother skills now. You sold your daughter, lost another, watched a son die and now you get ready for a fucking party rather than save yet another of your children. Is it that you really only don't give a shit about anyone but yourself, or do you at least have an actual feeling of love for Robb? Why is he really your favorite? Does that mean he is the one kid you have that you would protect?"

Cat flew for Jon and Robb slammed into her,knocking her into the wall. "No. I won't watch you hurt him anymore. Stay there or go the fuck to bed, Mother. Jon is the only friend I have left, thanks to you and father. So you are not to use him as my whipping boy anymore. Understand me?" She stared at Robb then she stood straight, fixing her robe.

"Just like Ned, the both of you. Look at your drunken, judgemental faces, all full of whiskey and ignorance. Let me tell you grunting fucking apes why I must attend this party. Because Tywin and Cersei who murdered Bran will be there. Because MY DAUGHTERS will be there and so will Petyr and Varys. All of our enemies in a group and at least one of them will have heard something. And at least one of them probably is responsible for it. So while your father loads the guns and tries to track Rickon, I will be finding out who took him or at least a fragment of detail that someone saw. Which will help your father track him if not find him. Do you understand all that? Or was that too many words, gentlemen?"  

While she spoke, Cat had strode forward and both boys backed up, staggering a bit. Robb stopped and sneered. "Your daughters, you consider them your enemies now? Such a good mother you are." The slap was fast and hard and Robb grunted with it. "I love my daughters no matter what. Don't you ever accuse me of such a thing! Go to bed before I do something we'll both regret." With a drunken, angry grin Robb shook his head.

"No. I am going to find my little brother. I'll get coffee on the way, don't worry I won't embarrass our sick fucked up family by getting a ticket." Cat shoved Robb in the chest. "You aren't going anywhere but your damn room! You are drunk and acting like a disrespectful brat. Go to bed!" She raised her fist this time and was stunned when Jon's hand wrapped around it. "Don't ever hit any of us again." He warned and moved when she tried to attack him.

Jon yanked Cat's arm up behind her back as she snarled at him, trying to claw him with her nails but Robb grabbed that free hand. Together, they wrestled her towards the hallway. They nearly carried her up the stairs and into her bedroom. There they tossed her roughly upon her bed. "Good night, Mother. I know where the last place is Rickon was seen, I'll go get him. Stay here and stop being such a bitch." Cat was about to launch herself at hem but paused. "You know where he is? How do you know? Oh gods, I know that look, what did you do? Where is Rickon?"

Cat staggered to the floor and headed towards her favorite son. "Robb, what did you do?" Robb tried to get the door shut and locked but she threw herself against it. "What did you do? Bastard, what did you talk my poor boys into!" With a bitter laugh, Robb got the door firmly locked then leaned against it.

"It was my idea, not Jon's. I made him call his friend Sam to take care of Rickon for us. Do you know why? Jon told me...while we were drinking one night, his tongue got looser. He cried and told me what you have done to him for years. You always treated us coldly, you always treated Jon with abuse. We all felt that abuse but never as much as he did. And then you...how could you hurt him like that? You did sell my sisters, you let my brother die, you let another girl here die if you didn't outright kill her. I am saving Rickon from you, Mother. I am doing what you and father can't bring yourselves to do. Take care of my brother and sisters."

 


	54. All The Pretty Ladies

Cersei was rattled and feeling dissed all at the same time. Dusten couldn't have been happier.

Dusten had been in the living room when Cat Stark came storming in to confront her. "Do you have him? Did you take Rickon, did your father? Cersei, please, you already have my girls why would you need a young boy? We had decided we were even, remember? You cannot break your word to me!  Give him back!"

Cersei waved Dusten back and approached the distraught woman.  "I swear that I haven't plotted or heard anything of hurting Rickon. Why would I do that? It would send you after Tommen and I won't lose my little boy. I can call father and Varys."

Cat had paced while Cersei contacted her father and Varys. Both of course have heard nothing but Varys offered to keep his ear to the ground. "He ran away, Cat. Kids do that. Hell, my daughter ran away at least four times on me when she was little. Surely, at least one or two of your children have ran off on your in childhood angst before." Cersei poured a glass of champagne and handed it to Cat.

"Of course. But this is different. Rickon has been depressed, sad and panicky but not angry. They run when they are mad, that is what children do. Rickon was scared to even go to the park on his own recently. So why would he just take off? And we have already checked the places our kids usually ran to. And Petyr who hears everything, has heard nothing. It makes no sense, Cersei. All I can think is...if it isn't...you or your father, it could be any of our enemies. It could be some drifter that likes little boys!"

It took two glasses of champagne and Cersei's best wordsmith talents to calm the woman down. Dusten watched in admiration as Cersei managed to soothe the woman into leaving. "I added a Valium into her second drink." Cersei muttered to Dusten afterwards as she noticed he was watching her with amused admiration.

Dusten nodded and gave a boyish grin. "That was brilliant, Mrs. Baratheon. That woman was ready to rip out your throat, I thought and you just made a tiger into a kitten." Cersei smirked then lightly commented, "This is the first time you have spoken to me, Dusten. I was beginning to think you were a mute."

She frowned at her phone. Texting Ned's driver, Cersei expected to recieve a message of where he would pick her up. Instead a cold quick text that said he could no longer see her and to please not contact him again.  Cersei snarled and threw her phone at the couch as she grabbed the whole bottle of champagne and drank from it.

"Whoa there, is something the matter, Mrs. Baratheon?" Dusten came forward with concern on his face. Cersei glared at him and ordered, "Don't call me that, makes me sound older than I am! My name is Cersei, you may use it respectfully." Lowering his head, Dusten said, "Of course I would be respectful, Cersei." He made sure his voice was velvet and low, but with some reverence to it. He let her name roll off her tongue like an endearment.

An hour later Cersei was fucking him. Dusten discovered the true joys of a cougar. She knew how to do things that made him actually weep and beg her for more. Her legs never ended and they wrapped around him like a vine with strength that the boys would all envy. Cersei rode him hard and put him away wet. When she finally was sated and stood to put on her robe, Dusten's body felt like jello with a growing ache in muscles he wasn't aware he had until now.

"Here, get dressed and drink a glass of water to hydrate yourself, dear boy. I would offer you a proper drink but you are on duty." Dusten dressed slowly as he tried to pull himself together and downed the offered water. Cersei smiled, touched his cheek and gave a bit of a leer as she looked him up and down. "You'll do. A bit overeager but we can fix that. You do cry so pretty though..."

She dismissed him so she could shower but as he turned to walk away, Cersei gave a small slap to his ass. Dusten turned red and escaped into the hallway fast. He felt like a horny teenager that just lost his virginity to an older lady, like in those cheesy porn films. Holy fuck what is he getting himself into?

Sandor stared at Arya and nodded. "Now you look like a proper young lady. A pretty dainty thing. Are you?" Arya shook her head. "No. I'm not. I can fight and I am armed." The large man walked around Arya and said, "Show me where your weapons are." The girl lifted her skirt to show the small taser attached to her thigh by her garter and stockings. She pulled the small blade out of her bra then a small folded rod out of her little purse. The rod turns into a larger baton when flicked open.

"Good. And is that enough to get through the party if someone attacks? Do you think that is enough for you to have with you?" Sandor asked as he continued to pace around her. Arya seemed to think on that and shook her head. "I cannot use a knife in a gunfight. Should I bring a gun too?"

Sighing, Sandor shook his head then whacked hers. "Don't say stupid things. Of course you are not allowed to bring a gun into a wedding party! No one but the guards will be allowed guns. Even Tickler will not have a gun since he is in the wedding party."

Gregor opened the door to the training room and leaned in the doorway, watching.

"It is highly doubtful someone will shoot you, Brat. It is very likely you could be attacked though. Everyone knows that you are in my company some will want to test that. Almost everyone knows you are Ramsay Bolton's wife now and the Boltons have plenty of enemies of their own. You are a target. And looking like that you are an inviting target, you look like an easy mark. Are you an easy target, Brat?" He nodded at Sandor who attacked Arya.

She found herself on the ground, her blade at Sandor's throat but a fraction after he already had her head in his hands ready to snap her fragile neck. "Nope, not ready. You are an easy target and a dead girl. Sandor, get her up and work on her for tomorrow's party so she won't disappoint me by dying. Careful, no bruising anywhere that can be noticed, Arya has to look like a pretty girl on the outside." 

Arya learned that her high heels were weapons. She learned how to fight in a dress. Her purse was a weapon, the thin chain-link straps to it were a garrote. Gregor came by before he retired for the evening and watched in approval as Arya managed to knock Sandor to the ground and taser him.

"Good. Go to bed both of you. Big day tomorrow. Nice job, Brat. Sandor, maybe we found your talent finally. Training others might be your shining light after all." The words to both were said without any real inflection but both of them headed to bed in a daze of contentment. "I think he may actually be starting to value us, to like us."

Arya looked up at Sandor with a satisfied smirk and he shook his head. "Don't get ahead of yourself, brat." Sandor warned as he shoved the girl into her room. But he grinned as he entered his own.

Sansa was brushing her hair, humming to herself when there was a knock on her door. "Come in." She called out and turned, forming a timid but welcoming smile to her lips. It was Raff and a delicate but scared looking young woman.

"Sansa, this is Shae. She is going to be your new maid. I promise you she is very well behaved and already understands the job. Say hello to your new mistress, Shae." Raff's voice was respectful as he spoke to Sansa. When he spoke to the girl there was a command in those words that clearly terrified the girl. "It is nice to meet you, Miss Stark. I am honored to be chosen to work for you. I promise to be a very good maid."

Smiling, Sansa approached the girl and shook her hand. "You may call me Sansa. I am very glad to meet you, Shae and I am sure we will get along fine." Looking up at Raff, Sansa quietly asked, "How is Jeyne, Raff? Is she still alive? I would really like to visit with her sometime."

With a small grimace, Raff replied, "Jeyne is fine. I don't think a visit would be a very good idea yet. Perhaps soon, maybe that will be my wedding gift to you, Sansa. But Jeyne is rather...high-strung these days. I need to prepare her for such a stressful thing as a visit with someone from her past. I am sure you understand." 

Nodding, hiding her indignation and rage, Sansa smiled at Raff. "For my wedding gift then. I will expect a visit with my dearest friend, Jeyne for my present from you. I will hold you to it, friend." Raff smiled back.

"I am so glad that you consider me a friend, Sansa. I am your friend, you know. We men are here not just to protect you. You can speak with us and we would be honored to always help you in any possible way we can. I hope you remember that. I promise, you shall see Jeyne as a wedding gift."

It was worth the trouble of having Jeyne get triggered seeing Sansa if it gained the girl's trust and friendship. Gregor and Tywin will be impressed if Raff can become this girl's confidant. Sansa sent the girl to see the head housekeeper for uniforms and dinner as well as lodging.    

"Raff, I do have a concern that I would like to share with...somebody. But it is so minor that I would hate to upset Joff or Cersei so close to the wedding by speaking of it." Sansa wrung her hands and looked mildly disturbed.

Leaning closer with a look of sympathy upon his handsome face, Raff asked, "Sansa, what is it? Let me help you, I'm sure I can sort this out for you. What is this concern?" Sansa looked down as she sat on her duvet and then peeked up at Raff.

"It is probably nothing and I am just being played for the fool I am. Margeary seemed perfect to be a bridesmaid and she is! I know what Cersei and Joff think of her but I figured maybe she just needs a friend and a chance. But last night when she came over to help me with some decorations...she drank a little too much. Margeary told me how she had wanted to get Joff back but that I stole him by being weak and a victim. That she wished she could Joff pay for blowing her off."

Shrugging then wiping a tear from her eye, Sansa said, "I know it was the wine talking, but she sounded...angry and spiteful." Raff patted her shoulder and sat next to her. Raff looked kindly at her and reassured, "I have known that girl for a long time. She can be a mean girl, but I have never seen her hurt anyone. If she ever does threaten you or make you feel unsafe, you let me know and I'll speak with Margeary."

Sansa nodded and sniffed. "I am sure I am just being a silly and nervous bride. Well, thank you very much, I feel better knowing that someone else can make me feel safe. Thank you for letting me know she is safe. I will take very good care of my new maid, I will try and keep Joff from her."

Raff nodded and got up to leave. "She is very lucky that she has you as an employer. Shae is grateful for this opportunity and I am sure she will bend over backwards to please you." Sansa smiled as she walked Raff to her door. "I am sure she will. Thank you again and I am so glad I can consider you a friend."

 


	55. Preparing For A Big Day

Loras winced as Mareary snapped, "You are a fucking mess. Look at this, you didn't even button your shirt properly or bother to brush your hair! Thank Gods, I came home early enough to check on you! Hurry, Rick doesn't like to wait!"

Loras snarled back, "Karstark can fucking wait in his fancy car until you are ready. And look at yourself while you are at it. You might look amazing, you might be on the arm of a rich fiance again...but if you look like the cat that ate the canary, Cersei will target you all day and night. If you outshine the bride and in law lioness, you'll lose status again. Watch how fast vain, rich Rick will drop you then."

The twins bickered the entire time that Margeary fixed Loras's suit and hair. She had to powder his face and add a little blush, he was so pale and a light oil sheen was always on his skin. Even in her triumph of another conquest, Margeary was afraid for her brother. Loras has never lost control this badly until grandmother left them here.

She was going to ask Rick to send Loras to a detox and rehab once she felt Rick was hers enough do anything. In the meantime, everyday it was a fear to come home and find her brother dead from an overdose. Or that he goes into prostitution for drugs and gets murdered in a dirty alley somewhere.

Loras was terrified and ashamed deep down inside and the bickering covered it just enough. If anyone found out what he did. Before Gregor let the boys kill him they would ask, who, how and why. And how to explain it was the infamous Ramsay Bolton when he hasn't a single wound upon him? Ramsay didn't have to threaten to flay him or hunt down his sister. No, he just had to hold a bag of drugs out to a needy junkie.

Loras told him everything he knew about the boys schedules and the door locks and codes, which wasn't that much. He mainly knew Polivar's schedule but he knew when he saw them come on and off shift when he was over. His head got jumbled and he sobbed. Ramsay was kind enough to let Loras take a little sniff of coke.

It wasn't much but it was enough for Loras to remember what he needed to. Ramsay carefully took Loras through it over and over. Every visit he had there, what he saw, what was said, every detail he could remember. Then Ramsay rewarded him by handing him an Oxycontin for drawing a detailed map of the inside of the house as far as he had seen it.

"Hey, open your eyes wide, you need some eye drops. All red and teary, gods, Loras, take one of the happier drugs before we go, alright?" Grumbled Margeary as she tilted Loras's head back. "Loras...I love you even if you are an idiot. You know you are really fucked up on this shit, right? You were almost out before I left yesterday with Rick. Now I come home and you have a full baggy of major goodies. How did you get that, please tell me you didn't rob someone?"

Loras muttered, "I love you too. No, I didn't rob anyone. I earned it and it isn't your worry. Leave it alone and finish so I can get some coke. That's my happy, energetic one...and I'll bring a few oxy's plus a joint in case I need to come down a little." Loras wouldn't say more, he couldn't imagine how his sister would look at him if she knew he basically just helped the north attack the south.

Gregor woke up and stretched as the alarm stopped rubbing gently along his arm. The alarm then stood up and went to become a barista. As Gregor drank his half soy, pumpkin latte with two shots of caramel, the barista became a chef. He showered and put on his silk robe. The chef is now a waiter.

She quietly serves a small fruit salad, an egg white omelet full of ham, chopped peppers and stuffed full of sharp cheddar cheese. A freshly made smoothie full of fruit and vegetables was the final touch. The waiter stepped back, waited to see if there would be further orders. When there were none, the waiter walked away to become a dishwasher. 

When he finished eating, Gregor stretched and went to dress to see his company. His clothing was already set out, not just his morning sweats for the men. The suit he would wear later for the party, his jewelry and his weaponry were set out, ready for him. Grinning in satisfaction, he decided it was a great apology gift after all. Raff had given him a girl for an assistant and Gregor was hesitant to let anyone into his home, even a slave.

"I'll take her but I can't promise she will live long." He had grumbled, staring down at the silent girl who was standing next to Raff. "I swear she won't be a problem, Gregor. This girl is special...from the day we obtained her, she has never spoken unless you speak to her first. She has never once not done exactly as told. Training her was easy, look, she hasn't a lash on her or a mark, she has NEVER needed it. And I am telling you that is not normal in this business. I was going to try for a real big price for her..but Sir, I would rather give her to you as an apology for my actions."

Shrugging, Gregor had given in. "Fine. Don't blame me if she dies. Everyone makes a mistake sometime. What is your name, girl?" The girl raised her head very slightly and in a clear calm voice replied, "My name is Waif, Sir."

Gregor was truly impressed that the silent girl just always seemed to know what was needed, what should be done. His house was clean, ordered and his meals on time. His nails and skin were perfect, the girl actually asked permission to work on them! He did of course fuck her but he was careful not to break anything.

He wanted to have her massage his body later and she couldn't do that if she had broken bones. The girl was not only responsive during the sex, she actually seemed to climax. He decided he liked this gift and Raff was forgiven. He headed out into the early morning light to see all his children in the line.

The second he was close enough, he scanned the faces, Gregor knew something was going on. Tickler was looking straight ahead and was bright red. His body was held in a way that indicated an injury.  The others were either staring at the injured and embarrassed man with sadistic amusement or total disgust. Gregor headed towards them and knew that they have not seen him yet.

They couldn't have otherwise Arya wouldn't have dared to walk over and spit in Tickler's face. Sandor pulled her back and Tickler seemed to yell something at her. The others were laughing but not at the brat, no, at Tickler.

"Oh, this should be delightful! Is it story time, children? Why is my best boy at the bottom of the bully bucket today, young dearlings?" They all jumped at the booming voice as Gregor came into view.

He put his hands behind his back and strolled along the line with a smile that made his bleached teeth nearly blind them in the sun. Gregor smiling was rarely a good thing and he watched in happiness as they all did truly seem like squirming scared children now. He walked over to the only one that was still a teenager.

Looming over her, Gregor boomed his words in sarcastic cheer. "Brat, you didn't like whatever that story was, did you? Spitting in Tickler's face? What could have made you do such a rude thing? Come on, tell your Uncle Gregor what happened." He leaned down and cupped his ear.

Tickler dropped his head and groaned as Arya stammered out the story she heard this morning. "I am sorry that I spit in his face, Sir. But HotPie is my friend, even if he is Polivar's slave. It angers me that Tickler would abuse my friend like that."

Gregor stood up and looked down at Brat without expression. "It is up to Polivar to get revenge for his own pet, which he did. However, you were trying to stand up for Polivar's property, there is no rule against that. And you didn't cause Tickler an injury that prevents him from carrying out his duties. It is forgotten but don't think it allows you to take further action against him." Arya thanked him and Gregor walked over to stand in front of Polivar. "Did you gain compensation for your property's damage?"

Polivar nodded then in a voice way too dry, he replied, "Yes Sir. He will pay the medical bills when they arrive as well." Gregor gave a nod. "Good enough. Now, did you injure my man in a way that prevents him from his job?" Gregor's voice was lower and more menacing now. Polivar winced a little then shook his head fast.

"No Sir. I was careful about that. He got a few stitches from Qyburn up his ass but the doctor said he could still work." Gregor tilted his head. "Did he say he could work if he took painkillers, or did he say he could work but had limitations?" Polivar began to sweat a little. "Uh..with painkillers and very few limitations."

Gregor stood up with a sigh and walked over to Raff. "And since you were involved let me ask you. Did the doctor provide Tickler with the medicine needed?" Raff nodded, swallowing hard. "Yes, an antibiotic, a muscle relaxant and codeine." Gregor leaned down into Raff's now pale face. "And how many of those medications did Polivar take away from Tickler? Because it is clear by the looks of him that he has very little medication in his system. I can see his pain from here."

Raff took a deep breath. "Polivar left him just the antibiotic, Sir." "Good boy, Raff. Now, really open those listening ears, okay? Next question is very important, sweetling. But I know you can do it." Gregor pinched Raff's cheek painfully. "I am so happy with your present. I am happy with you again. Don't mess that up now. Ready? What limitations were placed upon Tickler while he heals?"  

With an apologetic look towards Polivar, Raff answered. "He cannot do much physical fighting for at least five days so not to break his stitches. But he can still attend the party, he can shoot, use other weaponry..." Raff trailed off weakly as Gregor stared him down.

"I see. What is the rule? Let me see if I can help you all recall it. The rule is...we do not injure each other in a way that will impact working for me in any capacity, that I need. Polivar and Raff, you have broken my rule. There must be punishment."

Polivar and Raff stared miserably at their feet, waiting to hear their discipline which surely will be terrible. Tickler was trying to hide the first grin he felt on his lips since they attacked him. Gregor stared at the boys and waited until they were squirming and nearly sweating before speaking. He suddenly received a strange picture in his head.

Waif outside maybe trying to spruce up those imported exotic plants and flowers that Gregor won't let the gardeners touch. Then Tickler showing up and breaking Gregor's new perfect pet. He opened his mouth and words he wasn't intending to say came out. "You will both recieve only half your pay for the five days it take Tickler to heal. During those five days you will also each take on at least two of Tickler's shifts so he may rest and heal."

Then as the boys looked up in relieved surprise, Gregor got in Polivar's face. "And give him his medication back immediately. Go. Get. It. Now." As Polivar ran as fast as he could towards the Barracks, Gregor finally walked over to Tickler. Now there was some emotion on his face, it was disgust and some anger. Tickler seemed to wilt like those plants as Gregor sneered down at him.

"You not only used his property without permission, you broke it. You will indeed pay the medical bills and if there is any further damage from what you have done you will pay for that as well. You broke a rule of mine too, didn't you? We do not steal, break, use or abuse each others property. Do you recall that rule, Tickler?"

Nodding miserably, Tickler moaned out, "Yes Sir. I am sorry for breaking the rule." Judging by Gregor's face, not only was Tickler no longer the favorite, he was not going to get a easy punishment like the other two. The smile came flashing back and the cheerful voice boomed.

"Since I am a benevolent man, your punishment can wait until after the party tonight and after the wedding tomorrow. So after the wedding tomorrow, you will report to me in the training room. That is enough time to heal a little and you can even take your medication before you show."

Gregor gave a look that was supposed to indicate innocence and sainthood. The entire company shivered as one and Tickler damn near cried. A large hand clamped down hard on Tickler's shoulder, causing him to briefly cry out.

"Don't worry, boy. We won't do anything to your torn asshole. And it won't be anything that will prevent your work, as limited as it may be." Tickler eagerly took the medication that Polivar came running back with. Gregor moved away and stood in the middle of the line.

"Now, today Brat and Tickler will be in the party, they can be vigilant, but they will not be actively working. Sandor and Polivar will patrol the garden and the outside of the house. Dusten, you are to guard the family. I will be wherever I am needed. I expect to have excellent communication with all of you the entire time. There will be no problems, will there?" 

Ned swung the thick belt with all his might and Robb screamed. He stopped and rubbed his arm as he stared at Jon and Robb's bright purple asses. The boys were bent over the desk, crying and finally screaming when the belt came down. Cat was there and said quietly, "Ned, that is enough. They need to go to the wedding party today with us, at least for a small appearance."  Ned nodded and handed Cat the belt.

"You two are very fucking lucky that you have be in public today. Otherwise, once your asses were bloody, I would move on to your backs and thighs. I cannot believe what you have done. I cannot believe that you may have caused your own brother's kidnapping or murder! How stupid can you be? Get up and go get yourselves ready. When it is over, you are to come home and go to your rooms. Unless it is for work, you will not leave this house. Hear me? Move!" He watched as the boys scrambled to pull up their pants without crying out in pain and stagger fast from the room.

Running his hands through his hair, Ned tried to get control of himself. "I won't be going. You and the boys are going and try to find out any information you can. Roose is going to make a quick appearance, then meet me to continue looking. He gave me Locke to help and Jory with be with me. If you hear anything, no matter how absurd or useless, then text or call me right away."

Cat nodded and closed her eyes to prevent the stinging of tears. Rickon was too young to be lost in the world. How is her family just slipping away through her fingers?

"Just find him, Ned. Please, find my boy." Ned stood up and gave Cat a hug. "I will, we will. The boys were being foolish, surely Rickon just wandered off. Think about it, remember how many times the school called to say that they lost him on a field trip? He would wander off, right? And how many times have we taken him somewhere and he wandered away? We will find him. We always have." \

Cat rested her head briefly on Ned's chest. "How did we lose so much control over them, Ned? Why are we losing our family? It is all falling apart."

Ned grabbed her shoulders and pulled her away. He gave a few hard shakes then stared into Cat's eyes. "Hey! Stop that right now. We are not losing them. They are all confused, the Lannisters and Baratheon's have caused this. We can fix it. We aren't dead yet, are we? So stiff back, Cat. Where is that strong, cold, clever woman that I married?"

Cat's eyes grew stonier and her back became ramrod straight. "I'm sorry, you are right. I will make sure that if anyone has any information on our son, I will know of it soon enough. We shall get our boy and all the heavens and hells couldn't save anyone who might have dared to touch him."


	56. Such A Lovely Party Full Of Darling Honey Badgers With Sharp Teeth

Robb sipped a glass of champagne and smiled widely at Ramsay Bolton and Theon Greyjoy. He wanted to kill Ramsay. No, Robb wanted to drown, resuscitate and beat  on him until Ramsay becomes unidentifiable then stuff him into a fucking cannon and blow the fucker into space. He leaned close and hissed through his jovial lips, "Why the living fuck would you bring him with you today of all fucking days? Are you trying to get Theon killed?"

Ramsay laughed as if Robb told a joke then quipped back,"My father would have thought it strange that I didn't bring my plus one, cocksucker. Can't kill the man tonight during the ruckus if he is paranoid with me, right? And hey, isn't your daddy looking nice and healthy. And I'll tell you, from what my friend told me, you and Jon got one hell of a strapping from daddy last night. Oh, don't look surprised of course father and I have turned half your staff. After your parents promised all those staunch middle class and lower class supporters that you would take the north back and didn't? Of course they turned to my family who kept trying to fight back."

Robb's smile started to go feral and Ramsay's became nearly clownish in his delight at riling Robb. Reek moaned softly then his eyes darted around the room, finding others that might look at any second. "Please, Master, folks are going notice his expression. I don't want anyone to get mad at you, Master." Reek whispered frantically in Ramsay's ear.

He was allowed in public to answer to Theon in public events like this, but Reek needed his Master to listen and not just knock him to the ground for audacity. "My mother and father are a tad stronger than your father, there are two of them. And I don't think killing them will really solve anything." Rob tried to look friendly, as if he wasn't fantasizing about taking a chainsaw to Ramsay.

With a gentle laugh, Ramsay took a step away and put his arm around Reek's waist. " Ah, Robb you are so interesting. Such a boy scout to the end, eh? It's alright, we can discuss that later, you fucking pussy.  My boy has his instructions on what to do if things go tits up. And I have no doubt that if I am unable to help him, you certainly will. Don't drink too much by the way, need to be sharp tonight. I'm taking Reek to go get something to eat."

Ramsay led his boy away and Robb tried with all his might not to shoot him. He and Ramsay both had hidden weapons. It turned out that Roose had a gardener in the Baratheon home that was his mole. Ramsay found this out when he was going through Roose's study to find out his father's exact schedule. Also how Ramsay discovered that most of the Stark servants were spies for his father.

Ramsay had gotten in touch with the gardener and explained what he wanted done, swearing it was Roose's orders. Without question of such a thing, the man took the two guns and hid them in the house. The servants bathroom had a water tank that could hold the guns and it did until early morning. Then a disguised Ramsay came in with the men delivering food, fresh produce, and several other items.

A good amount of the supplies were from Karstark farms. Not a man would have denied that Ramsay, a northern man, was anything but one of them. He retrieved the guns and slipped into the main house briefly. The two guns were put into a large urn that contained the ashes of Robert's brother. Then Ramsay left the way he had come in.

When Robb arrived he was checked by Gregor's man for guns and he was of course clean. Then he walked slowly around after greeting his sister. Pacing with his hands behind his back, he walked down a large hallway with some impressive artwork and stood near the urn. When Ramsay showed up not much later he did the same thing. Both men had a concealed gun and they don't believe it will matter about trying to leave with them.

This will be a bloodbath and there will be deaths on both sides probably. Robb can't understand how Ramsay could bring Theon into such a thing? Doesn't he understand Theon can't fight or defend himself after what Ramsay has done to him? That a stray bullet or an angry person grabbing Theon as a shield or even as a hostage against the Boltons?

Ramsay filled a plate of food for his pet and for himself. Then he went to sit at a table that only had two folks at it. Arya rolled her eyes and muttered, "Really? Don't you have assigned seating? You are supposed to sit with your father on the other side of the room." Tickler just grinned and leaned back in his chair. This was the most interesting thing that has happened so far. Gregor informed the men of Arya's marriage to Ramsay in case the boy ever tried to kidnap her or something.

Ramsay pushed his pet into a chair, put his plate in front of him then he sat next in the empty chair between Reek and Arya. "Well, this isn't your assigned seating either. As part of the actual wedding party, you are supposed to be at the long table ahead of us all. So we can all stare at you while we eat."

With a charming smile, Ramsay put his napkin in his lap and as he lifted his fork, he asked, "So...since we are all defying convention together, why not have nice conversation while we are at it?" Arya stared at him as if he were a cockroach crawling on her meal. "We have nothing to discuss. The weather, I guess. It is a nice day for this stupid bullshit. I am sure you agree. There, that was a lovely conversation, wasn't it?"

As Arya went to stand up, Ramsay grabbed her wrist. Freezing, horrified that Ramsay might cause a scene in front of Tickler, Arya bit out, "Let. Go. Of. My. Wrist." Ramsay smirked and changed his hold to a caress. Pulling her hand away, Arya growled with as much menace as she could without anyone noticing.

"Listen very carefully to me. In name only for political and loyalty purposes. I am not yours, I never will be a proper northern wife for you, Ramsay. It will never happen. I belong to Gregor Clegane, to the company of men I am loyal to. I will never belong to you. The very second the shit storm ends around here, I will divorce you and forget you ever existed."

Arya stormed away towards the long table and Tickler laughed at Ramsay's face as it tried to stay composed. "Brat is telling the truth. I don't think she would be a wife you would want to be asleep around." He stood up and walked away with a stoned, highly amused smile. It faded a little when he realized he had few to tell the story too.

None of the boys were really happy with him right now. Dusten was the most neutral so he went to him. After a few seconds of Dusten taunting him, he listened to Tickler's tale and laughed. "Wish I'd seen that. How much you want to bet that pissed Ramsay off enough for him to try and fuck with her later? Want to bet? Huh?" Arya glared at what she thought was the men making fun of her situation and then tried to pay attention to the mindless chatter around her.

Joff pouted slightly when Tickler continued to evade the table. He was bored and that was dangerous, something Tickler always warned him of. Reigning in these urges until they can be used. Finding smaller ways to release just enough of it to get through being in public. He can use his words to cut and torment until someone breaks or weep.

Sansa can be hurt in ways no one can see and that is what Joff's doing already. His hand was clamped around her silk nylon clad thigh. Underneath the layers of fancy dress, Joff's fingers dug hard into Sansa's muscle. It amused Joff to watch her attempt to continue a conversation with Margeary, even as her hand clenches hard upon her tea cup. She tries not to turn so pale, to not have her eyes fill with tears.

Margeary looked graceful and sexier than ever today. Joff fantasized about undressing Margeary and then burning her alive. This made his terrible grip turn to a caress in between Sansa's legs. Sansa kept her voice steady, even when Joff directed her hand into his lap. Margeary sipped her wine then looked mildly alarmed at Sansa.

"Oh dear. Sansa, your eyes are red and irritated. That won't do, you have to keep up looking like the little innocent angel bride you are. Here, I have some eye drops with me, honey. Let's head to the ladies room and I'll fix your eyes right up." Sansa was grateful and thrilled at Margeary's spontaneous offer.

Joff was about to deny it when his mother spoke up. "I agree. Sansa, the candle smoke must be torturing your poor eyes. If Margeary has eye drops, you should go apply them. There are many who are taking pictures of you. You cannot appear with red eyes like that. Please go repair yourself, dear."  

 Cersei has been keeping a hawk eye on that little cunt that always tries to steal something from everyone she meets. She would be damned if that little tart would get her hooks into Sansa, the poor sweet dumb thing. Joff sucked the life out of the girl, her spirit was gone and she was mainly Joff's puppet. Except Cersei saw how well the girl seemed to manage her boy when he was in trouble or making a faux pas of consequence. How sweetly and submissively she manages to turn him from his deadly focus.

That makes Cersei think...but then Sansa pays a price that makes everyone in the home shudder when the screaming begins. It can't be an act, why would Sansa ever bring such pain upon herself on purpose? Cersei certainly wouldn't have, not if Robert was having a truly dangerous moment..like most of Joff's moments.

Robert mainly would hit her, maybe make her piss blood for a week or have a bruised body that needed morphine shots so Cersei wouldn't scream while running a charity ball. It might be more extreme then say, what Cat probably received, but it wasn't anything as bad as what Sansa is going through.

There was one night where Joff had drank too much and began to torment poor Tommen. Cersei intervened and Joff came at her, spitting in her face as he called her a nosy fucking whore. Tickler had tried clearing his throat loudly but Joff was ignoring him. As much as Tickler has become a private friend of Joff's he was still an employee. Unless Joff tried to truly injure or kill Cersei, Tickler couldn't actually intervene. 

Sansa came to the rescue instead. She gently touched her fiance as she knelt before him, begging him in a sweet voice to please spend some time with her. So nervous about the wedding and afraid of embarrassing Joff. Sansa babbled these things until Joff looked down at her with a sneer. "You know my rules. You are allowed to sway me, but you still broke a rule to do it. You interrupted me, Sansa. Go upstairs and I'll punish you." 

This time the screaming changed after awhile. Cersei ran upstairs and saw Tickler standing in the hallway with a pale face. He was texting Qyburn and Gregor. It was Cersei herself who entered the room first and saw the poor girl hemorrhaging from some sickening, horrific looking device that had been inside of her.

Joff let himself be pushed aside by his mother and watched numbly as she shoved the sheets between Sansa's bloody legs and pressed hard. Sansa screamed again and Cersei spoke to her the way she would to Tommen. "I know it hurts, sweet girl. Don't worry, Qyburn is on his way, we can fix it. He will stop the bleeding and the pain. Hush and try to breath slow breaths, little dove. Deep breaths, slowly...good girl, just like that. Here is the doctor, I will hold your hand, I am with you."

And she was. Cersei made sure the doctor gave Sansa painkillers and she waited to hear if the girl would die. How would she explain to Cat that Cersei let Joff kill her eldest daughter? Once it was clear the girl would live, Cersei petted the girl's sweaty hair, crooning sweetly, waiting to hear if the girl was now barren.

How would she tell Cat that Joff ruined the girl for this marriage, this pact created by men who will no longer have the bond they need for this truce to hold? How does she explain to her father that her inept parenting of Joff caused her father's plan to falter in any way?

Qyburn gave several stitches to the girl then told Cersei and Joff that she could still be capable of pregnancy. Qyburn looked sternly at Joff then at Cersie, finally at Tickler. "This could have killed or or made her barren. If it happens again, it most certainly will do one of those two things. The girl cannot take anymore scarring inside her or she will not be able to have children. There are many other dangers her health faces if this type of device and abuse is done to her."

After the doctor told Joff that Sansa must not engage in sexual activity that involved her vagina for at least two weeks, the man left. Cersei stood up calmly and walked over to her son, her hand aching to hit his shocked face. "Son, you must take more care of your lovely submissive girl. She never meant to offend you, just help. Save this type of thing for your other girls, this one must conceive for you." She smiled sadly at Sansa then shuddered at the sight of that blood streaked metal nightmare on the nightstand.

So Cersei knew firsthand the type of abuse Sansa was receiving. No sane person would pretend a role that made them go through such a thing. Therefore she felt kindly towards this girl that she once viewed as a potential threat to her position with Joff, her special son. But now Cersei felt pity for the girl and wished to protect her as much as she can.

In this public setting where her son must be careful, Cersei made sure that Joff was overruled and Sansa went with Margeary to the ladies room to use the eye drops and fix her make up a little. Joff glared at his mother who smiled calmly back at him. "Sansa needed to fix herself up, sweetheart. Appearances must be kept, son." Cersei sat as straight and graceful as a queen as she sipped her wine and held court over ladies that came to speak to her.


	57. Questions With Few Answers

Ned crunched through dead leaves, mud and heard his own voice as well as Locke's and Jory's. Grimly, he sought for footprints, for any indication that Rickon might have run from the camp they had found. They had found the deadened fire pit, buried shit, nut shells, apple cores. What interested Ned even more had been the footprints. Rickon has worn Converse sneakers for three years now and these were his prints. It seemed as if he were dragged, then a scuffle, then his footprints moving normally as one would. Rickon suffered a scare but then he knew or felt safe with whomever it was who took him.

The other prints belonged to the exact same shoe as Bran which froze Ned's heart for a moment. No. His other son was dead, Ned doesn't believe in ghosts, only logic. Only one other boy wore the exact same shoe and that was Bran's pothead buddy, Jojen Reed. Howland was a rich fanciful and very permission father. His kids Jojen and Meara were just as odd as their father. Ned and Cat had put a great amount of pressure on Bran to stop hanging with them so much this year. And Bran was far too interested in his gaming to care to hang with them soon enough.

Though Ned was aware that his son had still gamed and spoke online with them up until his death, Bran never seemed to get that attached to anyone really. The last time Ned saw the kids was at Bran's services. Why would the kids kidnap Rickon? It doesn't make any sense unless they were trying to ransom him or prank him. If it had been a prank, they would have had their laugh then dropped him to his destination or back home. They were known pranksters but not malicious ones. 

If it was ransom, they would have called Cat or Ned by now and they don't need the money,there isn't anything their father denies them. Ned saw the large boot prints and his belief that it was the Reed kids was confirmed. That mute large simple man that was Howland's stableman's son was the only one that would ever be with those kids.

He had been given the role of the kids companion when he was just a young teen and they were preschoolers. The man did anything the siblings wanted but he would tear apart anyone that hurt them. It had made Cat nervous, but Ned has been friends with Howland since childhood. He knew that Hodor would never hurt Rickon anymore than those kids. 

Ned had begun to call Howland when he heard Locke faintly call to Jory. "Look, over here, I think it's him!" He began to run in that direction clutching his phone. Then he he stopped and froze, tilting his head. Why had Jory not said anything after that initial "Where are you looking?" And he knew it was too late for a run or fight as Locke was already heading his way. A flash of pant leg and Locke's rough voice.

"Ned, don't call anyone, please. It will only be a nightmare in the head of whomever you were calling. Do you want your wife or son perhaps, to hear their father shot in the head?" Tsking, Locke stepped out of the trees and into the small clearing. Ned sat on a large boulder, arms crossed, head down, Locke had never seen him look so defeated. Worse, in front of him was his gun on the ground, bullets scattered around him.

Locke grimaced in disgust and clicked off the safety. "Can I ask two questions first?" Ned's voice was soft but clear. "Sure, since you are being so good, I'll even give you three." Nodding, Ned asked, "Is Roose's order? His new way of doing business, to send others to do his own personal wet work?" Locke laughed and shook his head. "No, Ned. Roose has more honor than that, if he wanted you dead, he would have done it himself. The Lannisters pay so much better than the Boltons."

Ned looked both relieved and disturbed all at once. "Next question. Do you know where my son is? Who is behind the disappearance of Rickon?" Locke shrugged. "I haven't a clue on that one. I liked that scruffy little guy, if I knew I'd find a way to get the information to your sons. I promise that for you in fact." Ned gave a sharp nod and struggled to reply. "Thank you for that, Locke. Last question. Would you tell my wife-"

The shot took Locke in the chest and dark blood bubbled from his mouth. His shocked eyes stared at Ned as he slowly went down as if he just discovered he was too tired to continue killing and betraying today. Ned swore at the burning in his arm and hissed at the sight of a burnt hole in the arm of his jacket. It was a recent gift from Cat and she will give him hell for it.

It wasn't as if he had lots of time to come up with a plan. Thank the gods that his wife had reminded him to wear that ankle gun. Sometimes he didn't want to bother with it, the holster chafed something fierce. He had just enough time to jam the thing into the crook of his elbow and cross his arms. Jumping off the boulder, he quickly put the bullets back in the gun. He found Jory, hoping beyond reason that he wasn't dead yet. Jory's throat was slit ear to ear and his eyes were marble, reflecting the clouds above.

As Ned ran, trying to follow the trail back to the cars, he started to make calls. He ran faster as no one was answering their phone. Roose, Cat, Robb, Jon or Ramsay? What were the fucking odds of that?

Rickon was dizzy and sick from the fish-bowling with Meara and Jojen. At least three joints have been passed around. Then he was giggling and devouring Doritos, while trying to combat dry mouth with Mountain Dew. The van rambled onward and Rickon kept meaning to ask where they were going anyway.  "Where...we are going...where?"

He finally managed trying to peer through smoke at the two leaning against each other, sharing a Marlboro. Grinning, Meara said, "Nowhere and Everywhere." Rickon and Jojen started laughing. It was another half hour and another joint before Rickon asked more. "Are we going somewhere?" Meara nodded and grinned widely. "Where?" "Away. Far away from all this bullshit where our families won't find us." 


	58. Crossing Unholy Grounds

Polivar was unaware of the unfamiliar figures that crawled through a ravine near The Barracks. These boys knew how to maneuver, how to track, hunt and kill. They knew how to take advantage of their surroundings and blend in. Not that this will be a good enough excuse to Gregor when his house and the Lannister's begin to burn and crackle, billowing smoke.

But right now, there wasn't any smoke, nor any distressed and scared-loyal servants running out of the home looking for assistance. Polivar never saw Tormund or Mance or Styr or Myranda. He was texting with Dusten at the moment about his bet with Francis. Polivar was in agreement that Ramsay will try and confront Brat before the end of the night. Just to annoy Dusten, he called him by his real name Lancel as he placed his bet.

Then Polivar heard a tiny bleep and looked down at his screen with a frown. The Barracks doors were unlocked. That should not be since anyone with the code was here, not there. Of course, Piggy had the code so he could do outside chores, Jeyne didn't have the code but she does go outside when Piggy does on occasion.

Except that Polivar and Raff were very clear that the pets were not to leave the house today. Not with guests roaming around that might catch an eyeful of them. And since Jeyne wouldn't breathe without Raff's permission, it had to be his own Piggy. Polivar knew his Piggy was generally obedient but on occasion tends to stray or get sly when he can. He has caught him with stolen smokes before or pretending to work outside just to get a rest. 

"Fucking Piggy, gonna beat your ass." Polivar snarled as he headed towards the Barracks. The doors were open, front and back to the Barracks therefore destroying the soundproofing. When a gun fired from inside his home, Polivar hit a button on his phone and started running with his gun drawn. It had to be intruders but why would anyone shoot poor beaten down defenseless pets? It pissed Polivar off to think someone has shot his property and he ran faster.

Raff got the emergency message, he notified Gregor that something was amiss at the Barracks and he was off. He was halfway there when another alert went off as the same time Gregor's small house started to smoke. "What the fuck?" He roared and then heard gunshots from the Barracks. A quick scan showed no one in Gregor's cottage and he flew towards the Barracks after calling the fire department and alerting the entire company plus Gregor. He just made it to the Barracks as the Lannister's home caught fire.

Only Damon and Skinner had gone to the Barracks. No men would be there, only slaves. Damon wanted to get Jeyne out of there, it was his top priority. He would of course rescue the boy he knew was in there as well. Skinner's main priority will be to confiscate as much weaponry, drugs and whatever else he can before they set the place on fire.

Ramsay had given them the code and blueprint of the Barracks. All of the boys had memorized the Mountain men's schedules. It was a perfect small pocket of time where no men are in the home, only pets. Perfect, easy and they anticipated no problems.

Skinner went through the back and Damon through the front. The house was filled with soft chattering from a boy and the sounds of chopping. Damon crept into the kitchen and he saw a boy whom he vaguely recognized as a boy named HotPie that had roamed around town. This version was not quite as heavy as before, this version had bruises everywhere and wore a leather collar around his neck.

He was chatting as he chopped celery along with another person. The other one nodded but never made a sound, just chopped and nodded. Damon couldn't breathe because it couldn't be Jeyne, not this ghost of person. 

This girl was thinner and tinier than Jeyne ever was, more silent then Damon's Jeyne ever could have been. This girl was covered in bruises, in scars, and her long black hair was covering her face. That means there was hope that the right girl was somewhere else in the house. Damon walked into the kitchen and found himself asking, "Jeynie?"

Piggy whipped around and gasped, he stood in front of Jeyne with his arms spread out. "Wait!" He nervously saw another man come through the back door. Damon and Skinner, Ramsay Bolton's boys. Shit. "We are unarmed, helpless slaves! Don't attack us! The men aren't here! Please, just get out of here!"

Damon shook his head as if the boy was confused. "We know the boys aren't here. It's a rescue, not just an attack. Jeyne, it's Damon, honey, come here! Hurry, sweetie, let me get you out of here! You too, boy, move on out the door, hurry!"

Skinner already was heading into the living room and beyond. Crashing some things, he searched quickly for weapons, drugs and anything of real value that was small enough to carry. Groaning, Piggy slumped as Damon continued to try and get Jeyne's attention. "You don't know that the hell you are bringing down on your heads."

"Are you two fucking crazy or something?" Damon snapped as he grabbed the boy by the collar and yanked him forward. "Run out the door, and I'll carry Jeyne with me. My friends are attacking already, no one will stop you! Just stay near me and you'll be safe, alright? Now move your ass!" He nearly threw Piggy at the door but the boy's knee caught the edge of the fridge and he leaned against it, hissing.

Damon reached towards his poor terrified girl. Jeyne let out a scream and ran past him in a blur of panic. She went up the stairs and flew into Raff's room. Skinner popped his head out of the back downstairs bedroom, clutching Tickler's nun-chucks.  "Hey, need help?" He called but Damon ran past, up the stairs, yelling for his Jeynie to stop and let him save her.

HotPie took one step closer towards the open door. The air was so nice and the sun blazing high, so inviting. Just the thought of it made him start to tremble and whine. He took another small step and tears began to flow down his cheeks. Is it that easy? To really just walk out and stay beside Damon until freedom? Could it be that simple, that achingly fucking easy?

To just leave, to walk away and never...Piggy took one step back. It wouldn't be that easy. Because even if he left and was actually able to do so he would always be waiting. He would always be looking for Polivar to show and kill him. To see those eyes go from cruel amusement to the sociopath gleam Polivar kills with.

And Piggy is fairly sure that Polivar would make sure his disloyal pet died slow, in great agony. So he did the most logical thing he could think of and sat under the kitchen table, waiting. If someone eventually shows him Polivar's dead body, he'll happily leave the house. 

Damon pounded up the stairs and burst open the door that Jeyne had gone into. He stared in shock as his tiny, trembling girl held a gun at him, trained on center mass. Ramsay and Damon had allowed Myranda and Jeyne to go deer hunting with them. He knew that Jeyne was a pretty good shot and so he stood still.

"Jeynie, honey, what are you doing? Don't you know Damon, your Damie, remember? I'm here to help you, sweetie, to get you away from them, from HIM." Jeyne's head twitched and her neck made a tiny snapping sound. Now Damon could see her face, the violent twitching has moved some of the hair.

Her eyes were too wide, her face too white, her scars around her lips were red as blood. Jeyne wasn't looking at Damon as if she didn't know him, she was looking at him as if he were a threat. When Jeyne started to speak, her voice it was so hoarse and so alien it made Damon nearly want to cry. Worse were the words and the fact that she was backing him up down the damned stairs with his arms out.

"You are making me break the rules! I cannot run without permission. I can't hold a weapon, ever. Never touch Master's weapons, ever! I can't speak without permission! Get out! I am not allowed to see you! I am not allowed to leave the house without permission." She had backed him halfway down the staircase.

"Sweetie, you aren't hearing me, I am here to save you. It doesn't matter what Raff wants anymore, I'll never let him touch you again!" Damon was almost on the last step into the hallway that connected to the kitchen and living room. Jeyne stared down at Damon and then giggled.

"You gave me to him. You let him take me and now you want to take me back? Fuck you. FUCK YOU DAMON! I AM NOT ALLOWED TO SWEAR! I AM NOT ALLOWED TO YELL! YOU ARE MAKING ME BREAK ALL MY RULES! YOU ARE GOING TO GET ME IN SO MUCH TROUBLE WITH MASTER! I HAVE TO BE A GOOD GIRL AND YOU ARE MAKING ME ACT BAD!"

Jeyne unloaded the entire clip into Damon's chest.

Piggy covered his ears when he heard Jeyne firing at Damon. He laughed though because he didn't feel so bad about being too cowardly to go out the door. If he were honest, some of it was loyalty, after all, Polivar was bad, but he kept his pet safe from others that would hurt him far worse. Jeyne wins on loyalty points though, gunning down her own lover and rescuer, Piggy laughed again.

Then he heard Skinner scream Damon's name and he groaned. Oh gods, that thin man will kill Jeyne! Piggy scrambled out from under the table and headed into the living room silently as he could. Grabbing the first thing he saw, Piggy managed to throw a lamp and it struck Skinner in the back of his head.

The shot went wild as Skinner dropped the gun and fell down. That was great for two reasons. One was the boy hadn't played baseball in over four years and two was because Jeyne was standing there, still holding the empty gun out, just frozen. Fuck. Piggy has seen the girl do this before a few times after she has been scared badly enough by Raff. She just freezes and goes away.

Only Raff can bring her out of that state and Piggy has no choice, he tries to run over and kick the gun away from Skinner, who is already back up. Piggy thanks the gods and Polivar for forcing him to lose weight and gain energy and a bit of muscle. Otherwise, he would never have managed to run over and kick away the gun in time, before Skinner got there.

Seconds after that, Piggy cursed the same gods and Polivar because the extra layers of fat would have cushioned Skinner's blows. The man punched him twice in the back, then spun him around. Skinner grabbed the collar and used it to slam Piggy into the wall, then he raised one fist high. Piggy tracked it with his eyes and saw a blade in the fist. He was going to die anyway, huh.

Just as the fist started to come down there was a very loud crack and Skinner had half a head. Piggy squealed when he felt pieces of Skinner's brain on his face, but he was still too terrified to move. Polivar stood there with his gun aimed still and just stared at the scene in front of him as if it made little sense. After a second, he grinned and shook his head. "You two fucking...wow...stop squealing, Piggy. Go clean your face...leave the girl there, Raff can handle that shit on his own."

Piggy suddenly remembered what Damon had said. "Master! It is an ambush! He said they were going after the houses! The north boys he said, to attack!" "Good boy, Piggy. Go wash your face and hide until I tell you otherwise!" Polivar spun around and nearly ran into Raff.

"It is an attack. I'm alerting the others. Your girl needs to be dealt with, then get your ass out here. Lock the pets in." Polivar flew, while hitting an alarm button on his phone. When he got outside he saw Gregor's house fully in flames and the Lannister's dining room billowing dark smoke. "Fuck! Fuck!"

Raff looked down at the carnage on Damon's torso then looked up the stairs at his girl. Jeyne was staring with large eyes at the dead body and still holding the gun as if to shoot him again. Raff slowly headed up towards her, speaking softly. "Good girl. Give Master the gun. He is dead and Master is very pleased with his good girl."

He eased the gun out of her grip then Jeyne began to tremble and sob. "Sorry...please...sorry...please..." She begged as Raff quickly lifted her up and carried her to his room.

"Hush...no punishment for good girls. I forgive you for breaking the rules. I want you to rest until I come back." He put her in the large cage and added a pillow and blanket for her. A full water bottle was already wired inside of it. Locking the gate, Raff grabbed extra weaponry and flew out of the house, only stopping to lock the doors behind him and yell, "Piggy, get hidden somewhere low!"


	59. Fucked From Every Direction

When the first alert from Polivar came it was related to the Barracks, so Gregor sent Raff to deal with it. Now with a more urgent code, Gregor sent Dusten and Sandor. Gregor quietly put Tickler and Brat on alert and ready to defend or go fight as needed. They heard no fire engines, nor saw any lights out of the lovely heavily curtained windows.

Joff had become bored with the violinist that Tywin had hired personally for the occasion. So not long after they finished eating, he ordered the DJ he hired to drop the bass.

Joff was dancing along with the pounding music as his mother, grandfather, Cat and Roose all sat with strained expressions. Sansa, Margeary and Loras danced with him. Tyrion sat with Podrick and Bronn. He had been heavily drinking while chatting with his buddies. Now that the music was so loud, he shouted while drinking even heavier. Walda Bolton got inspired by the music and her pastries were chewed to the beat.

Ramsay, Robb and Jon were wandering about, rarely chatting with the others. Bronn had been keeping an eye on the three boys, they were less bored and more tense then they should be. Tickler and Arya were walking about the room as well, but hovering over Joff and Sansa. Both were no longer relaxed but on alert, eyes scanning for danger.

Then Gregor got something on his phone he didn't like and with even more interest, Bron watched as Dusten and Raff had each left. Sandor went a different direction but also left. The three boys noticed this as well and Bronn groaned. He finished his beer fast and leaned towards Tyrion. His arm reached out and his hand yanked Podrick closer by his new tie.

"Something is going down and I think any second everything here is going to go to shit." Tyrion gave a bitter laugh. "Well, that isn't unusual with our parties. Let me know when to either run or hide. Podrick, if Bronn must fight, then you are to guard me." Podrick gave Tyrion an exasperated look.

"I am a driver and a personal assistant. Every morning I turn into a nurse and now you want me to be a human shield for you. I want a raise." Tyrion sighed and nodded. "Fine...have another drink each of you. Let us toast to the gods in hope that they do not want us to die tonight."

Petyr and Varys sat together at one of the lesser tables and Cat walked over to sit with them. Mainly because they were the furthest table from the pounding music. Tywin had enough after a bit and asked the DJ to turn the music lower and play slower songs. Joff would have contested it, challenged it, but the look his grandfather gave him was chilling.

As much as it angers him, Joff still feared his grandfather and didn't dare to push any further. Not with public humiliation wasn't beyond the old man if he won. So Joff acted as if he chose to be done dancing instead. Joff guided his fiance back to the table and ordered champagne for a toast. A huge cake rolled in and a maid quietly began to cut and serve it.

Polivar ran towards Gregor's house and saw the this strange little collared girl dragging a hose Gregor likes to use during training. Both for discipline and allowing them to hydrate. She had turned it on and was trying to put out the fire. He thought about offering her to go wait at the Barracks, but the creepy thing didn't seem afraid at all. "Did you see them? How many?"

The girl turned slightly as if to answer then did the last thing Polivar expected. She yanked hard on the hose that he was standing in a circle of and then his ass hit the ground hard. An arrow whizzed past and buried itself into a tree. "Ah, fuck." Polivar shimmed to the front of the house, carefully peeked to see if he could sight his assailant.

Maddeningly, the fucking slave continued to calmly try and put out the fire, ignoring his whispered commands to find cover. Fine, stupid bitch gets killed it isn't my fault. But Gregor won't see it that way at all. Fuck. Fuck.

A slender young woman that Polivar remembered from the bar emerged from shadows. Her arrow at the ready, she was slinking forward with a feral grin on her face. "Oh you cunt..." He muttered and pulled out his gun. Polivar knows that Gregor says to use the guns as a last resort, kill quietly whenever possible, but he really has no choice.

The bitch is going to shoot Gregor's new pet that makes him so happy. She might as well murder him too, before Gregor rips him limb to limb. As Polivar got ready to take the shot, Myranda's arrow notched and ready to release, the girl suddenly twisted the hose on full force and aimed it at Myranda.

She was knocked backwards with a shriek and her arrow was lost. Polivar flew over and tackled the woman. She tried to rip his eyes out and bite through his throat, while her knee desperately sought out his balls. A forceful blow to the jaw and another hard into her nose made her attack wilder. Snorting at these strong, feral northern girls, Polivar took out his knife.

"If you act like a wild animal then you get treated like one." He said in a happy sing song voice as if speaking to a toddler. Then her used her broken jaw to raise her slender neck towards him and he slit her throat. "Bitch." He tossed her down and stood up.

Polivar felt a shudder as he saw the girl still calmly using the hose with some success now. Her face was blank, her eyes were blank and her features so plain..almost faded. He walked over and cleaned his blade in the spray while staring at her. She never turned from her task or reacted at all.

Quickly, he put his knife away and ran off towards the Lannisters. As jealous as he had felt about Raff having Jeyne, suddenly Polivar is overjoyed that he has Piggy for a pet. Maybe it is a boy and Piggy might fuck up on occasion...but he won't find his pet holding a gun shooting others. Piggy is all emotion, never shuts up and cooks way better than he cleans but he isn't a fucking perfect statue.

Suddenly he knew he wouldn't pressure Margeary for sex anymore. Maybe it's time to contact Petyr or Varys after all. A well trained whore sounds like a much better idea than any female around here. Polivar headed into the Lannister mansion that was smoking heavily from the west wing. He heard smashing and yelling, pulling out his gun, he headed towards the fighting.

When Sandor had flown into Tywin's home he was overjoyed to see Tormund. Finally, not only a chance for some real fighting, but someone his own size. Lovely enough that he grinned and nodded as he walked towards him. "This is will be fun for us both." Sandor said as he unsheathed his blades. Tormund smiled back and brandished a large barbwire bat. "I found this, hope you don't mind my borrowing it?" Sandor shrugged, "Sure, Gregor might be pissed since it's toy but hey...go on, use it."

Mance came out of the shadows and smoke with a machete and a grin. "Mind if I join in too? Not often we get to fight someone our own size." Sighing, Sandor rolled his shoulders. "Can you wait until his turn is over? It's not fair to have both of you at me at once, is it?" Mance nodded and said, "I know it is not fair, but neither is you being here at all. So...yeah."

Both began to crouch and circle around Sandor and he muttered, "Not very sporting at all. If you fight dirty, guess I can fight dirty." He grinned and leaped out of the path of the swinging bat. Sandor hissed as he felt the tip of the machete graze his back before a bullet took Mance in the back. Tormund went to dodge behind a desk from Dusten's gun but Sandor broke his kneecap with a well paced kick. "Oh no...you wanted to play unfair...and wait..you wanted to play with that bat." Dusten left as Sandor started to chuckle and Tormund screamed.

Raff had run Rick Karstark heading down another staircase towards the door. Or rather he almost took a bullet from Rick. He moved in time behind a pillar that is now damaged enough to make Cersei cry once she sees it. Rick took cover behind another pillar and the two began to politely try and kill each other.

 


	60. Happily, Skipping Hand In Hand To Hell

Robb and Jon waited for a signal that Ramsay said they would "just know". It was clear the fighting was going on now, but who's side was winning? Gregor wasn't stupid and was already giving a nod for their traitor sister and Tickler to lock the doors and shut the music down. No more fucking around then. He had the music cut and then it became chaos.

Joff was standing on his feet, eyes bulging, clawing at his throat, foam pouring down his chin. Gregor had his head tilted, because this was certainly not on anyone's anticipated list. They all stared for a moment at the sight of a boy clearly NOT choking on a piece of meat. Sansa and Cersei were screaming. The blonde was trying to use the Heimlich maneuver, while Sansa somehow felt holding onto his head would fix it.

Then Roose Bolton was shot in the back of his head by Ramsay and the boys guessed that must be the fucking signal. Reek was already downstairs, no one ever even saw him leave. Knowing his pet was safely mixing in with the servers, he already had an outfit tucked away for his pet to wear. The Karstarks will see that Reek gets back home.

Ramsay grinned and shot Walda in the swollen sow stomach and then turned to start working on his other enemies. Arya ran over to the long table and knocked it over. Joff went to the floor in a seizure and his mother and fiance fell with him. Tywin was also under the cover of the table but he was holding a gun. Margeary and Loras were clutching each other, next to the hideous scene of Joff dying.

Gregor was incensed beyond belief. Just as he had a good aim for Bolton's head, fucking bastard Stark shot at him. The bullet lightly grazed through illegally obtained silk made by enslaved three year old children, still nursing from their mothers in Mereen. It shot off the button hand carved by Gregor himself then detailed by a man that charged exorbitant prices. Qyburn had to be paid a great amount of money to give Gregor the skull of Rhaegar, or rather, a piece of it.

Growling, he turned and tried to remove Jon's eye with a bullet of his own. The little fuck moved fast and Gregor only got his shoulder, but the screech of pain helped a little.  As Gregor went for the wounded punk, Robb took a shot and the shot went wide. "WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU FUCKING STARKS? IF THIS IS MY ASSASSINATION YOU REALLY SHOULD CONSIDER ANOTHER LINE OF WORK!" Gregor took a shot while yelling and Robb wasn't as fast as Jon. The boy grunted as his thigh was hit and he fell out of sight.

Tickler couldn't do anything for Joff, he was nearly dead. Tywin had his own fucking gun and Sansa was collateral damage if Joff was dead, right? He went for Robb Stark, following the blood trail. Ramsay had ducked when he saw Gregor aiming for him then just as he saw Jon shoot Gregor, he felt a terrible pain of his own. He had been trying to get a shot at Tywin while standing on the table, when something stabbed him deep in the arm. "AH, FUCK!"

He stared at the pink heeled shoe sticking out of his arm, mouth open. "Wifey, that isn't very good behavior to show your husband." Arya aimed the next one at his head and he leaped off the table. "I am just showing you how I'd greet you every day if you try to pull your husband shit on me." She called sweetly as she managed to find her purse. Everything upon the table was now scattered in front of it and she winced as glass went into her knee.

Getting her gun out and clicking off the safety, Arya stood up and slowly went towards where Ramsay was last. "It would be really bad Northern wife behavior to kill your husband. You'll make the society pages for sure but...not the right way." He called out in a very pleasant voice but Arya couldn't see the fucker. "And you cannot deny you loved having sex with me, wifey." Arya growled, tracking his voice now. "So you gave me an orgasm. Guess what? Gendry gave me orgasms too and I didn't want to marry him either!"

A gasp came from another toppled table. "Arya Stark! Remember your mother is in the room!" Arya rolled her eyes, "Shut up, Mother and stay low. Pretend Dad is really on a bender and you've pissed him off." Varys and Petyr shared the most delighted vindictive wonderful smile. The glow in their eyes was nearly vampire. A starved thing finally fed, the servers finally seeing their most hated and needed client getting the much needed knock down.

Varys's eyes were softly welling with lovely tears, not just Cat getting a smack down but Joff dying all at once? Oh, it was like finally seeing that dreams do come true. If a cricket had appeared on his knee and sang gently of dreams, Varys would have had an orgasm of his own. Petyr heard Tyrion laughing at the next table over.

Tyrion was on the ground behind his table. holding a bottle of wine, snickering now. Podrick was crouched next to him, shielding the man with his own body. He looked petrified and resigned all at once. Bronn looked bored but had his gun at the ready. Yawning, he watched idly as Robb crawled past under a table, leaving behind a small blood trail.

The boy looked more pissed than scared and he had a tight grip on that gun still. Bronn watched as a moment later Tickler crawled past with a grin. "Pass the bottle on that other table, Pod. This shit will probably take a bit."

Sansa cried out, "Maybe its an allergic reaction! Where are the purses? Maybe Arya has an injection thingie for that!" Her words are scrambled and frantic. In desperation to save her fiance, Sansa threw herself half over the table to scramble and grab purses.

"Foolish girl! Get back down!" Tywin snapped and yanked her, throwing her to the floor behind the table. Sansa had managed to grab only one purse and it broke open with she hit the floor. The contents spilled everywhere but the four empty eye drop containers all fell together.

Staring at them, Sansa gasped. She turned even paler than croaked out, "No...Margeary no! Why? I let you be part of our wedding! I thought you would...you didn't want to be my friend, you wanted to kill my fiance! Damn you! I'll kill you!" Cersei was holding her dead son and wasn't registering Sansa leaping over her and her boy.

She didn't hear Margeary's screams or see Sansa raking at her as if clawing her to death. Loras was rocking himself in a ball muttering, "It's all my fault...oh gods...what did we do? Why is this happening? I'm sorry I want to take it back now, please." But Cersei didn't hear that either. Not yet at least.

  When Joff was very little, Cersei spent more time with him than her husband. Robert had his whores, his drinking, his buddies and her money, plus status. And though she continued with her society duties, she would rip him from her nanny at every chance she got. When he was a toddler, there was a duck park that they visited every day, rain or shine.

They would call to the ducks and throw bread at them. Give them silly names and then Cersei would swing him and kiss him. Joff was a happy, angelic thing then. One day he started throwing rocks at the ducks instead of bread and they never went back there. But Cersei held her dead son and she was mourning the little boy who fed ducks and thought his mother was a good mommy.

Tywin was watching it all and frowning. He managed to reach over and yank Sansa back by her hair. "Did that girl poison my grandson with her eye drops? Is this what you are accusing Margeary Tyrell of?" Sansa nodded while sobbing and Tywin took note that Loras kept apologizing over and over. Margeary was frantically saying that Sansa was framing her and Tywin commanded, "Silence!" "Everyone stays right here and once things are safe, we shall deal with this."

Gregor smashed through four tables as Jon was skittering under them, just like his stupid brother on the other side of the room. Idiots. He was sure Ramsay was probably doing the same thing. He almost felt sorry for that boy when Arya catches up to him. He took aim at a flash of color and shot. A scream made him smirk and he took aim again. Another shot and another screech. As fun as it was to play and take the moron apart piece by piece, Tywin would be annoyed about it.

One last shot and Gregor heard nothing. Perfect but he threw the table aside to check. The fucking little shit, he'd been using Walda's dead fat body to hide behind. Jon saw Gregor and gave a real scream of surprise this time as he tried to fly to another table. Gregor snarled out, "Clever little shit, aren't you? Your mother must be proud...oh wait...yeah..sorry." The shot was messy, splattering Jon's head on those nearby. Cat shuddered and gagged as her hated stepson's brain matter rested heavily upon her.

Robb stopped briefly to bandage his leg tightly with his tie. Leaving the blood trail, Robb stood up and climbed on top of the table. He shot into the table where he heard Tickler coming from. "You cocksucking fucking piece of fuck juice!" Tickler growled. Robb shot again then leaped off the table as a bullet came up into his foot. Tickler was wounded and that was pissing him off. He came up, throwing a chair at Robb then training his gun trying to get a good shot. He wants to gut shot Robb so bad his dick hurt.

Ramsay was trying to stay out of Arya's range and he saw Robb about to die. Fuck. He aimed at Tickler and took the shot just as Arya took hers. The bullet hit and Tickler went down, Ramsay couldn't celebrate though. He was in too much pain and pushed to his limit of being kind to his new wife.

Ramsay turned, ignoring the flaring pain in his side and stalked after wifey. Robb managed to shoot Ramsay's hand and even as it hurt, Ramsay hollered cheerfully, "Hey, really good job, Robb! Thanks for the friendly fucking fire, asshole!"

"Leave Arya alone! Let's get the fuck out." Robb growled as he lunged closer, seeing Gregor heading for them. Ramsay snarled. "Oh, I see how this fucking is...I do the hard shit, kill my own dad, protect your ass and when my own wife attacks me-" "STOP CALLING ME THAT!" Arya shouted and Ramsay gave in.

A sudden flash and the room filled with smoke as Ramsay threw the canisters. Robb and Ramsay relied on their memory and counted as they crawled from memory.

When Gregor got the windows open and made sure that Tywin was alive and well, he looked for the two shit heads. Not only were they missing but so was Arya.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> no, you would NOT die dramatically with four vials of eye drops. but you can be poisoned from that, yes. but i gave it the old way over dramatic soap opera version of it!  
> nanners, out.


	61. You Wanna Get Froggy And Leap?

Gregor grabbed Tickler by the back of his neck and looked at the pale face. "Are you dead? Are you too injured to work?" He growled as Tickler tried to focus and grit his teeth against the pain. "No, Sir. I can work." Tickler lied and when Gregor released him, he struggled to stay on his feet. There was a bullet in his back and it hurt like a motherfucker.

The world came in and out for a bit before Tickler felt safe to walk. Biting his lip against a scream, Tickler moved towards Gregor. "Brat is going after those fucking idiots. Help her kill them. Now. She just went through the fucking vents then down into the second floor laundry elevator. And she is heading towards the back door. Get moving."

Tickler couldn't run but he walked as fast as he could. Fuck the stairs. He took the elevator knowing if Gregor or Tywin saw him, it would be rectal infusion time. He didn't care, the pain was incredible and it was hard to breathe now. Punching the button like it was an enemy, Tickler leaned against the gold paneling and waited for the thud. When it came, he cried out in agony, then got his gun ready and headed off the elevator.

Robb and Ramsay were staggering now, both in pain, both not humbled but angered in defeat, seeping in bitterness. They flew through the hall into the kitchens. "Oh gods, she is still on our asses what the fuck is wrong with you fucking Starks?" Groaned Ramsay as the wires of the taser nearly hit him. "What the fuck are you doing? Get upstairs, go away!" Screamed Robb and Ramsay swore, pushing Robb ahead of him faster.

A grim voice followed them. "I am doing my job, Robb. I am bringing you down. Dead or alive is your own choice." Ramsay sneered and shoved Robb out of the service door onto the ground. Then he turned and aimed carefully and took a shot.

He brought down a hanging rack of pots and pans upon Arya then he jumped out. Robb was holding his leg and moaning. "Nope, no time to nurse the boo boo's now, honeybunch, get on your fucking feet before your sister kills us!" Ramsay forced Robb to his feet and dragged him.

Arya couldn't find her fucking gun, her head was spinning from several pans whacking her. Fuck it, I'm going to kill them with anything I can find. She grabbed a very sharp wicked cleaver from the kitchen butcher block and headed out the service door.

Arya also took out her blade from her thigh sheath. They have not made it too far, not with Robb's leg looking so bad. He could barely walk on it. Grinning, she flew after them. Ramsay saw her and started cursing.

It was Robb that turned and pointed his gun at her. "Don't make me kill my own little sister." Arya stopped running but walked forward now. "No you won't. You can't bring yourself to kill me, Robb. Otherwise our mother would have been dead."

Robb glared at her and changed his aim. "You are right. I can't kill you but I can shoot you and cripple you. It might even be the end of your career. Then you can be the crippled wife of Ramsay Bolton." That made the girl stand still, eyes narrowed.

"Uh, why did you make that sound like a punishment?" Joked Ramsay as he pointed his gun at Arya. "I have no problem killing you, sugar if I have to. But I could shoot out your other leg and that way I get to enjoy your torture of it everyday of our married life. So come one, keep coming after us."

Ramsay couldn't resist his taunting but they had to get the fuck out of there. The fires didn't seem very bad yet, but no others were seen yet. They could hear the fire engine sirens coming closer. "Follow us and we will cripple you, hear me?"

Arya gave a sharp nod and gritted her teeth in frustration as her prey began to limp away. Ramsay has already texted Ben to meet them, he was parked only a block away. The girl ran a different direction and was gone. "Shit..she is going to come at us from another fucking direction. Robb, you watch left, I'll watch right. We don't have far to go, just a little more speed Robb. Ben is waiting for us, look, see the car! Right there? Almost there, buddy, let's go! I'll even let Reek sign your fucking cast when you get it if you'll just move your fucking ass!"

A blade came flying and landed in Robb's hand, going through and clinking hard into the gun he was holding. He screamed and dropped the gun, trying to rip the blade out of his hand. Ramsay swore and nearly died a moment later as Arya came from a bush like a demented lunatic. She swung a cleaver that cleanly went through his side.

It only sliced the fat and some muscle luckily, Ramsay had moved like a ballerina on cocaine practicing the famed Flashdance move to save himself from being gutted. 

"YOU BITCH!" He hollered and found he couldn't shoot what he could aim at. He couldn't aim because he was too busy trying to get out of her increasingly close swinging range.  "I don't believe in divorce, I believe in homicide!" Arya growled and continued her dedication to murdering her new husband.

Just as Ramsay started to get the gun aimed and planned on putting this rabid cunt down, Robb tackled her from behind. The cleaver went flying as did the siblings. Arya managed to harshly grind her hand into Robb's leg wound as they went down.

Ramsay seethed as he tried to pull Robb out of the rolling grunting flesh writhing about. Fuck, others would be here soon, they had to leave. He managed to kick Arya in the face and stun her. Grabbing Robb, Ramsay shoved him and screamed in his face, "Go! Fucking crawl if you have to!" Robb seemed to get the urgency and he staggered, hopped towards the car, idling nearby.

Ben rolled forward to meet Robb and Ramsay wasn't far behind them. Incredibly, as Ramsay watched Robb get into the car he heard a shot then fell down. "The cunt actually got me." He hissed as Ramsay tried to crawl into the car. Ben flung the passenger door open and took a shot at the girl. Only after Arya fell to the ground did he help his friend into the seat and slammed the door shut, peeling out.

Robb rolled down the window and tried to stick his head out of it. "Did you kill her? Did you kill my sister?" He slumped back into his seat, sweating and chilled. Ben shrugged. "She went down hard, pretty sure I hit her. Not sure if she is dead or not, but I generally don't miss a head shot."

Opening his mouth and staring at Ben's pitying eyes in the rear-view mirror, Robb spewed vomit all over the back seat as Ramsay bled profusely all over the front seat. "Ah, fuck the both of you! Should've let you kill you! You are both cleaning this fucking car!"

Tickler has forgotten his task. It was incredible, it was insane, but there it was. Gregor will kill him but Tickler cannot think through the pain. The blood is getting darker and it won't stop. It wasn't like Tickler could staunch his own back, why can't he remember what he should be doing?

So he resolved the problem by heading down towards Qyburn's clinic. He will simply have Qyburn fix him and then Tickler will recall what he is doing. Once the pain and bleeding are dealt with he will be fine. So Tickler staggered into the thick smoke that only increased the dizziness.

He was sure he saw shadows, heard voices but everything was grey and smokey. That worried Tickler..what if he was dying and this was the first of seven hells creeping to get him. Tickler fell down and vomited then crawled through it.

The ground was easier, breathing was easier too so even after Tickler escaped the smoke, he continued to crawl. Twice he fell down and then he saw the Barracks looming above him. Tickler knew he wasn't making it to Qyburn's.

Crawling faster, Tickler made it to the back door. It took him four times before he got the code right and fell into the house. Tickler meant to laugh in victory instead he screamed in agony. Leaving the door open, he crawled forward.

If he could get into his room he had painkillers that Qyburn had given him for the stitches. A few of those will get him through while he waited for Qyburn to show and fix him.

"Piggy!" He screamed as he crawled forward. Tickler heard the door slam shut and he tried to turn his head without screaming in pain. The boy was behind him. "Yes, Tickler?" So polite and calm as if the boy can't see the fucking problem?

"Call Qyburn and tell him I got shot in the back. I need him to get here now." Tickler ordered, trying to keep the pain from cracking his voice and failing. Piggy nodded and Ticker headed for his room on all fours stopping once to vomit. He cried out as he saw blood mixed with bile.

Piggy didn't touch the phone even though he knew the code to make the landline work. Instead he followed after Tickler and while the man was staring in horror at his vomit, Piggy acted. He dug his hand deep into the back wound and then twisted, seeking things. As if Tickler were just meat, Piggy pulled past muscles and tendon.

Sharp fingernails shredded arteries, questing, merciless fingers pushed the bullet further in. Piggy started to cry as Tickler screamed in pure black and red volcanic waves of smoldering fire eating him alive. "Does it hurt? Beg me to stop." He repeated what Tickler as grunted at him so many times. 

Then he left the man to finish dying on the floor as Piggy went and scrubbed his hand clean.


	62. All The Right Answers To Wrong Reasons

Dusten managed to finally get his kill shot but not until two priceless paintings were destroyed. Well, fuck. Won't his uncle Tywin just love that. He sighed and headed outside to see if anyone needed his assistance.

Polivar knelt next to the bleeding girl. He could just see the car as it sped off and he swore. "I wounded them both. Tried to kill them but the driver shot at me." Snorting, Polivar turned her over and grimaced. "Shot you. Just fucking lucky, aren't you? You are going to have one HELL of a scar. If you wanted Ramsay to never want to fuck you again I think you found the answer."

He ripped off his shirt and Arya gagged when he seemed to be smothering her with it. She began to fight and Polivar punched her hard in the stomach. "Stupid girl. Your face is pouring blood, can't you feel it? Now stay still while I tie this. I'll give you your eyesight back in a minute. Stupid fucking idiot." Polivar wrapped the shirt tight and adjusted the cloth so she could see.

"Good job going after your own brother and husband." He seemed begrudgingly saying it, but it made her smile. "We all have that one bad scar from something hard...but only you were stupid enough to get it on your face." Polivar laughed and helped Brat to her feet. "Can you walk or you need me to carry you?" Ignoring the pain, the worry of how bad her face is, Arya snorted. "I'll walk thanks. No need to give you a reason to try and grope my ass."

This normally would have brought derision and at least one hard whack to the head. In this one strange, fucked up day that didn't happen. Instead Polivar laughed and slapped her back almost hard enough to knock her down. "Go see Qyburn, I'll let Gregor know you did the very best you could. Now..you are invited to join all of us for drinks at the Barracks, Brat." Overwhelmed, Brat nodded and gave a rough thanks then headed for the clinic.

Gregor assured Tywin that everything was secure but there were deaths and homes burnt. This was never something Gregor wants to tell his boss, it will cause issues. Tywin's eyes told Gregor this was indeed issue causing and Gregor's resigned himself to be ready to have another drama on his hands. Luckily, there was the issue of a dead grandson and two very guilty looking twins. That was the first thing Tywin wanted dealt with and Gregor eagerly agreed.

Margeary looked up at Gregor with lovely, pleading eyes and cried out loudly, "Gregor, please help me out! Tell them you know me, all the boys know me! We have been friends and lovers for years, tell them I would never do something like this! Ask the boys, I need someone to tell them what I am like!" Gregor could feel so many eyes on him, none of them friendly. He changed his mind and wished Twin took Gregor to task.

Sneering, Gregor looked at the desperate girl coldly. "Aye, my boys and I have fucked you for years because you come and enjoy our drugs, our sex. So? Doesn't mean anything, honey, sex is sex. I don't know your character and I am not paid to." Staring up wildly at Gregor, Margeary gave a wordless scream of rage and frustration. Standing up, pressing against the wall, Loras started to pant and suddenly there was a foul smell. Varys gasped and delicately covered his nose. "Oh dear..that boy is ill, I believe. Oh gods, he is wearing the best of Dorn silk and well, might as well burn those pants now. "

Mageary started to give a defeated laugh. "Oh gods..so fucked. Nice work, you cunt. You got me. I fucking hate you, Sansa. I fucking hate you and I hope you get what you deserve, you bitch." Cat walked over along with Varys and Petyr.

"Sansa didn't speak much to me except about wedding affairs. But she mentioned you so many times to us, she championed you to us all. And when we warned her about your character, Sansa said you were just lonely and hurt. But she told us that you had tried to kill yourself once over Joff. That made her want to help you. You tried to kill yourself with eye drops, didn't you?"

Margeary laughed wildly and clapped her hands. "Ah! There it is! Oh, clever Sansa! I only use prescription eye drops! I would never have more than a bottle of it at a time!" Sansa pointed at the bottles as she stared without mercy at Mageary. "Four bottles all with your prescription labels on them. I know you hated us for Joff not getting back together with you! But I thought we were friends! I was going to help you get back on your feet! Oh my gods, so stupid! Why did you kill my fiance, Margeary? Why?"

"She did this! She is framing me and you all can see it, can't you?" Margeary screamed at the faces around her. Tywin gave a slow nod. "I am a fair man, young lady. But this is not a matter for courts, this is going to be personal. But I am fair. I will hear everything you have to say, I will check on the answers for truth in anyway that I can. You are accusing Sansa and she is accusing you. No one has accused your brother yet but he seems quite sorry over something. We shall have to ask him what he is so sorry for."

Cersei's head snapped up and slowly reality seeped back in. With a suppressed sob, trying to compose herself, Cersei looked up then her brows shot up further. "Sansa? What did you say a moment ago? Who did you say poisoned my son?" Looking down with respect and eyes full of a dark sadness over her fiance, Sansa replied, "Margeary Tyrell. She used four bottles of eye drops to kill Joff for not taking her back. I will never forgive myself for trusting her. For letting her be a part..." Cutting off, Sansa shook her head and looked down, ashamed.

"Father, I would like you to ask Gregor to please crush Margeary to death slowly for killing my Joff? And kill Loras the same way, please." Cersei's voice was so light and socially polite, she might have asked her father for cream in her coffee. Tywin tried to give his daughter a warning look but he saw that the boy's death has truly affected Cersei. Ignoring her, he turned to Gregor. "I want them both taken to the bunker until these officials are gone. Most of them are in our pocket, or Starks. Cat, I assume you can assist me in this?" 

Cat smiled and nodded. "Of course, Petyr and I will take care of this for you. Oh, I do have a quick question first? Do you think you can allow cell service again now that the party is most definitely over." Tywin sighed and gave a slight nod to Gregor who texted the techie that lived hidden like a troll somewhere in Tywin's house. As Cat and Petyr stood with Tywin, Gregor lifted the two screeching twins and went into the elevator. He spun the girl into the wall face first and handcuffed her wrist behind her back then did the same to her hysterical brother.

"If you either of you give me the slightest trouble, I will literally rip you apart, understand?" Gregor rumbled and only Margeary responded. "Fuck you." "I have, thanks." Gregor mumbled as he used a tiny key to open a small panel on the elevator underneath the buttons. There was another button there and he pressed it. They went down beyond the three floors of the home. The door opened and a chill stale air met them. Gregor grabbed one arm of each of the twins and dragged them down a dim tunnel. Yellow lights in cages were supported above by metal and wood supports.

Gregor brought them through the underground tunnel. They passed a door that led to another corridor into the Lannister home. They went straight and were brought to a place Gregor likes to play with his victims. They went into a dimly lit but cleaner hall that led to stairs that went up to a door. Gregor smiled as he shoved them into the room where the stains linger of a five year old that he raped and exploded her little head.  Of course the room is empty now, just a locked blank room for these two glittery trashy things to panic and run about in.

Smiling, Gregor slammed the door and locked it. The next time those two recieve visitors they will be frantic and terrified, helpless. Tywin wants them to be guilty whether they are or not. Gregor can read his boss well and this pleases him. This means once he gets the confessions wanted, he gets to torture and kill them. It will make up for the unpleasantness that will come with Tywin over today's issues. Gregor went back the way he came to go into the Baratheon home.

Tywin and Cat were handling the officials. Varys and Petyr were outside at the edge of the estate, dealing with media. Sansa curled on the floor near Joff and cried while Qyburn gave her a shot. Gregor turned to stare down at Qyburn. "Did you work on Brat's face?" The harassed looking doctor grumbled, "I was in the middle of it when I was summoned her to care for the ladies. As soon as I am done I will finish the girl."

  Gregor grabbed the man by his neck and lifted him up. "Cersei has gone to bed with a sedative, right? Sansa just had a sedative and will soon go night night. Cat seems fine. Guess that is it then. So why don't you finish fixing MY soldier's fucking face?"

He dropped the doctor and stormed out of the house. Heading towards the Lannisters, Gregor saw it was only Tyrion's wing and Tywin's large library that truly got burnt. With a true feeling of heartbreak, Gregor looked at his own house, half destroyed. Then with a gentle small swelling of hope, Gregor saw that someone had put the fire out before it got too far. The kitchen, the bedroom and a bathroom were left.

There was Waif and incredibly, she was putting tarps up to keep the elements out. Gingerly, Gregor stepped inside and saw that the girl had cleaned up as much as she could. Most of the soot was gone, transferred to the girl instead. "Master, I fixed what I could. I have only two more tarps to put up. I checked and our services are all still working." Gregor moved forward and looked down at the impassive narrow plain face. His mouth opened to tell the girl she could go shower and he will finish the tarps.

"My best shirt and my button. One of my men dead. Another with her face half taken off. My home. My trees and flowers." Tears welled in his eyes and the Waif came closer. She lifted her arms and touched his shirt as if it were a relic and whispered, "Mereen specialty and your Rheagar buttons. I will fix this and go find that button with your permission, Master. Your man died for you, as he should. Your other man, he has slaves that have talent with building. Your home can be rebuilt and fixed in weeks, Master. I will do all I can to reconstruct your perfect garden. You worked so hard for what you have, Master."

Gregor sighed and nodded. "Yes. You are right, Waif. Make your Master feel better now." Covered in soot or not, Waif took off her clothing then her Master's. She led him to a special massage chair Gregor had ordered on Waif's advice. As it was activated, hard large plastic knobs began to push roughly, circling into Gregor's muscles from neck to his feet. The chair had special leg holders that had a pad for feet to press against. Those foot pads began to slightly vibrate, the intensity growing as the chair worked it's way to full strength as it was set for. The soot covered girl climbed the large man and began to lick then suck his cock.

He grabbed her head with one hand, molding his palm to her small skull. Slamming her hard, forcing her throat to open and take it all. Groaning, Gregor shuddered and let her strangle for a minute before letting her head up. As the Waif gulped air, her head laying upon his thigh Gregor massaged and pinched the girl's nipples.

The girl crawled up after a moment and began to suck Gregor's cock again. This time his hand only held her head and mildly pushed her. Waif took him all in then pulled back, sucking hard on the tip. His head made her go faster, he started to fuck her mouth and throat in earnest. Tears filled his eyes as he thought of his losses.

"I need to kill them, I need to fucking murder Ramsay and Robb!" He snarled out as he pumped up, Waif was clearly strangling and Gregor came hard. He spilled himself into her throat as he watched the tiny blood vessels in her eyes burst into small red splotches. Gregor finished and quickly pulled her off his cock.

Quickly, he flipped the small girl so she could cough it up and breathe. He patted her back with the affection of a owner with a great dog. "Good girl, you are fine. There you go, take a good breath. Now, clean this mess and shower. I will be back soon."

Rickon and the other two were out of snacks. "Geez...should've brought more..maybe there is a store we can stop at soon." Jojen texted Hodor and said, "Hodor says one up ahead in about fifteen minutes. Cool! Hey maybe we should get some freaking Cookie Crisp, I love that shit!" Rickon nodded then dreamily added, "I like Captain Crunch. And cool ranch Doritos." 

A slight edge of anxiety is starting to seep into Rickon's drug stupor. Perhaps the last joint was the one that did it. Meara laughed and said, "Oh, I want Count Chocula and a freaking Redbull, a pack of them!"

Trying to shake off this feeling, Rickon laughed and said, "Yeah, we should grab Bran's favorite cereal and snack too! Kind of like a toast, ya know!" Jojen nodded and replied, "That is epic, my man..we must do that now!  He loved Lucky Charms and Slim Jims!"

Rickon tilted his head and said, "No. His favorite snack was Funions." Meara shoved Jojen as she pulled out a baggie of pills. "Idiot, I love Slim Jims..how fucked up are you?" She shrugged and passed out pills along with a can of Mountain Dew.

Rickon swallowed the Molly and then asked, "What was Bran's favorite two comic book characters? He didn't like my comics much, but two caught his attention. Who were they?" The kids looked at each other than back at the boy. "Uh..Spiderman." Rickon nodded and softly urged, "Yes, who was the other one Bran loved?"

Meara and Jojen gave a few more wrong answers. "It was Deadpool. My parents wanted him to not hang with you so much. When you started getting into thievery and drugs and shit..so he only talked with online. So where the fuck are you taking me?"

They winced then Jojen shrugged as he squeezed his sister's hand.

"Look, it is safe, alright? I am not lying now, we are far enough away that it's safe to tell you the truth. Okay? Bolton figured out what the Moron Brigade was doing and he knew you wouldn't be safe on a train all by your lonesome. Listen, there is a very bloody fucking war there right now. Your sisters are fighting with the South, your brothers are fighting for the North. Someone has to live, someone has to be assured to live. You are the youngest Stark, the symbol of North and you have to be kept away and safe. Bolton paid us in drugs...so much fucking drugs...don't know who his dealer is..but holy fuck, right?"

"Wait, what? Bolton had you kidnap me for drugs? SO WHERE THE FUCK AM I GOING?" Rickon was starting to panic and the colors dripping on the van walls made Rickon real edgy. Jojen smiled and patted Rickon's leg.

"Hey, calm yourself buddy. Roose said his sister ran a school for orphans and that is where you are going. When the war ends, a Stark or Bolton or Karstark maybe, a Northerner will come for you. See, no worries." Jojen tried to get Rickon's attention but he was more concerned with why the walls were pulsing.

Following the exact directions given by Roose and following the time table as well, Hodor came down a road to a set of tracks. As Hodor started to drive over the tracks, his tires were blown out. He never saw the spike strips. Two men in masks suddenly came to the driver door and passenger door with blowtorches.

They quickly welded shut the doors as Hodor stared in panic, flapping his arms and hands. One of them ran to the back door as Jojen opened it. The man punched the boy hard in the face, knocking him back into the van. Rickon had looked up and screamed as a gargoyle attacked Jojen.

The man slammed the door shut and welded it. The two of them ran fast to a high vantage on the hidden brush next to the tunnel above them. They watched gleefully as the train came and the van exploded, twisted and was pushed for miles.

The two men quickly changed into other clothing and followed the carnage. They found Rickon's hand, a leg and what was once a torso. Luton and Yellow Dick left, texting Ramsay that it was done.


	63. Licking Wounds

Gregor was following a pale Polivar towards the Barracks. He had just spoken with Dusten, whom he sent to care for Sansa, Tommen and Cersei. Then Raff gave a report on the extent of damage done. Polivar came and said the detectives and the body were finally out of the Barracks.

He had made sure that Jeyne and Piggy were hidden down in the tunnel the entire time. Of course, since these men were all in the pocket of Stark they didn't pry too hard. Tywin paid generously to anyone who didn't particularly care for the Starks.

They asked few questions and didn't pry further than where the bloody trail had been. The fire department has finished and left. So has the forensics team and media. All had the lovely thriller of a rich fiance poisoned the night before his wedding by a bridesmaid!

The jilted riches-to rags girl and her brother, a desperate junkie have escaped! Tywin himself said he put his faith in the police to find the terrible people who could do such a thing. 

Without knocking, Gregor entered Qyburn's clinic. Brat was sitting on a cot with a large bandage upon her face. It went from her left eyebrow, across her nose and down the right side of her face. She saw him and stood at attention. "Sir. Sorry that I lost Ramsay and Robb. I did wound both of them enough that they shouldn't be able to fight for weeks. I can personally go after them if you want me to."

Gregor shook his head and then gave a twisted grin. "You have been blooded. And you didn't hold back on the tradition, no ma'am, you took the game to a whole new level. Good thing you do schooling online now. The only person that you could take to a prom now is fucking Sandor."

Brat didn't flinch, instead she actually gave a laugh and nodded. "If you followed my game example, Sir, someone would have to possibly lose a finger or nose or ear." Gregor gave a tiny rub on her head then warned, "Don't push it." Brat put her eyes down and apologized. Gregor put his hands behind his back and loomed over Brat. "You were willing to kill your brother and fiance, you took a bullet rather than just let them go. Good work, Brat. Three days off, rest and heal."

Sandor had showered and was walking the perimeter of the properties when Ned Stark came flying across the lawn.

"Calm down, Mr. Stark. Your daughter Sansa and your wife are fine. Robb escaped with only a bullet in his leg. Br..Arya caught a bullet to the face but Qyburn stitched her up nicely, drugged her silly and I put her to bed at the Lannisters. Roose was killed by Ramsay who also escaped. Jon is dead. All the Wildlings they brought, Ramsay's boys, they were all killed. Oh and Joff was poisoned and died by Margeary and Loras. Yeah, I think that is it."

  Sandor smiled meanly as Ned rushed towards Cersei's house. "Not even a question about how his shot kid is doing..nice." Since Cersei had gone to bed, Cat took over care. Tommen was asleep with his head on her lap, Sansa was leaning against the other end of the couch, snoring gently. There were about four blankets wrapped about her as if to shield her from the other occupants of the couch. Ned approached and whispered, "What the hell happened? Jon is dead? Is that true? My son is dead?"

Cat snapped back, "Yes, I am sorry but he is dead. Gregor killed him after Jon tried to murder Tywin Lannister. You don't ask about Robb or Arya or Sansa? And what about Rickon? Did you find him?" "Lower your voice, woman before you wake them!" Hissed Ned and Cat gave a bitter laugh.

"Are you kidding? Qyburn sedated them both and they refused to go upstairs so they passed out here. We could dance on them and they won't notice." Ned growled at his wife then answered. "Locke killed Jory and tried to kill me, on Ramsay's orders. I found the camp where Rickon was and I know who he is with. For the moment at least, he is safe."

Breathing a sigh of relief, Cat gently moved the boy off her so she could stand up. Her bones creaked and ached as she stretched herself back into shape. Covering the boy with a remaining blanket, she headed right for the liquor cabinet. She downed a glass of wine before she looked at Ned. He was staring into space, not paying the least attention to her or his own self.

"Ned? Would you like a drink, dear?" Very slowly and carefully Ned spoke. "My son Jon is dead. My son Robb is wounded in the leg and on the run because he decided to have a revolt. My daughter Arya attempted to kill both of them and now has a bullet wound in her face. My other daughter's fiance was poisoned." Cat handed him a whiskey and put a hand on his shoulder. "I am so sorry, Ned. I didn't like Jon but I never wished him dead. I would never wish this pain on you." She lied so easily that she impressed herself.

"Roose was killed by his own son. Ramsay killed that poor pregnant woman. I can't imagine what the boys must have seen in him. Who knows where they are now? If they have gone to a hospital or did they just bind their wounds and run for it. Ned, when you track them down, please don't kill Robb! He is our eldest son, he might be our only son for all we know. Don't kill your heir." Ned gave her a mild look of revulsion then he nodded and patted her hand firmly. "Of course I won't kill Robb, dear."

A few moments later Dusten came in to carry the boy to bed and the couple left.

Ned brought his wife home but he did not remove his coat. "I am going to try and fetch our son home. Then do what I should have done years ago. I am going to kill Ramsay and Theon. Robb will come home and we will figure this out. Tywin knows you and I had nothing to do with this revolt. Go to bed or go drink but don't leave the house, we don't know if anyone else is trying to kill us. Or if Ramsay has a trap set for you somewhere. So no matter what..do not leave the house. Rickon is with Meara, Jojen and Hodor. I will visit Howland and see if he can get a fix on his kids."

Cat tilted her head. "Why the hell would Bran's loser buddies want to take Rickon?" Ned shrugged. "I don't know yet but I am going to find out. You are going to bed though." Cat decided bed sounded wonderful and nodded wearily. "Just try to bring yourself and our sons home alive."   Grimly Ned replied, "I just hope to reach Robb before Gregor does."

 Gregor told Raff he wanted his house worked on by the next day. He put Polivar and Dusten on guard of the grounds, Sandor had the Lannisters house and Dusten had the Baratheons. Gregor will be the bridge between them but that would be later on. First he must deal with Tywin and probably have unpleasantness. Sighing, he headed for the Lannister's home and the study where he was going to be called on the carpet.

Reek had nearly shrieked at the sight of Ramsay covered in blood and then he saw Robb's leg and nearly fainted. "Oh gods...what did you do? Oh no..." He ran to grab the first aid kit and nearly giggled. As if this would fix a shattered leg or stitch together Ramsay's gaping side. Never mind that each had wounds everywhere. "Who the hell got you?" Ramsay ignored Reek's sudden fussy unlike Reek behavior. After all, Ramsay covered in blood is a common sight, but never his own blood.

The pet came running back and Ramsay smirked as his puppy looked up with frantic but submissive eyes. "Master, this won't do much...can..can we find a hospital?" Robb laughed bitterly. "Yeah, as long as it's in the west, maybe. Ramsay just killed his father and pregnant step mother. Then Tickler shot me, Gregor shot at me, then Arya kicked our asses and shot us, stabbed us...she wanted to kill me! Ben saved us!" As if to remind them he was there and also to accept the compliment, Ben beeped from outside.

Ramsay finished grabbing anything they truly needed. "Reek anything you think you really can't live without you grab right now. We have to take off. If Gregor and his boys or fucking Arya come to finish the job, you won't survive, none of us will. Hurry the fuck up, honey." Reek looked devastated but he ran to grab a few pathetic things.

Robb tried to use the first aid kit with some success. He was able to treat and bandage his hand. He cleaned and bandaged his leg the best he could. Ramsay found Reek's old crutches and offered them. "How the fuck did I end up here? How the hell can I be running away with my brother in law whom I despise. And my old lover and now your pet." Robb shook his head and started to laugh more. Ramsay left him to it to go throw his stuff in Ben's trunk.


	64. Dragonglass blades and Bad Tactile Issues

Gregor knocked on the door of the study. He studied the diligently polished oak until he heard a soft, "Enter."

 

Waif had no trouble slipping past the men roaming about. She simply used the tunnels that led right out of their land onto a small field that belongs to the Starks. Climbing wasn't a problem, those old stones were sturdy steps and hand holds for her. Slipping onto the balcony of the bedroom, Waif entered the open glass doors. She went into the welcoming embrace of shadows and slithered along the wall.

Her target was sitting at a vanity dresser brushing out her long hair. Waif came on like a venomous spider, a deadly poisonous snake, intent upon her prey, silent in her rush for the kill. Waif drew the special weapon and was suddenly behind the target who widened her eyes in the mirror. The girl grabbed Cat's chin and pulled her head back. As the Waif prepared to slit the woman's throat she let her head stay down enough to watch in the mirror.

Cat had no time to react really, but she knew the knife, oh yes, she knew it. Because she fought for a month with Ned over gifting Jon with such an expensive, rare thing. A dragon glass blade was hard to come by and the thought that Ned went through that much trouble for the bastard had infuriated her. That very day that Ned gave it to Jon, it was his sixteenth birthday and her stupid husband tried to make it special. The kids made him a cake and they all went out for dinner, all of them but Cat.

That night she had given Jon her own birthday gift. She beat him with a riding crop while he licked and fingered her. He sobbed and twitched in pain which only sweetened it for her. Cat beat him until he bled in lines all over his back. He died with those scars upon his back. Yet here was his knife, his last fuck you to her. She tried to react and it was too late, the knife went through her neck like butter. The girl whispered, "For Jon." Cat died hearing those words.

The girl carefully cleaned her blade. It was a perfect payment, Waif didn't mind different forms of payment. When Jon had told Ygritte of what Cat was doing to him, she told another client of hers. She was recommended to Jon. Waif understands the pain that Jon went through, she had gone through it herself as a young girl.

So she sent back word that she would be willing to help him for a price. The blade was perfect and Jon's eyes held so much pain that Waif accepted only that blade for payment. She headed back into the tunnel towards Gregor's rather singed home. Wouldn't look right if she ran now, she hates being hunted.

Besides, to tell the truth, Waif is having so much fun here. Gregor and his men amused her with their bumbling ways. Why is it the largest and most deranged of testosterone filled men are the biggest babies deep down? Jaq might have had to deal with stuck up rick folk but Waif lucked out with putting herself into Raff's slave delivery. She enjoyed tending to Gregor and terrifying his men. Waif finished cleaning up the half house and was in bed waiting for her Master before Gregor finished his unpleasant dealings with Tywin.

 

 _ **Ten minutes. Ten mother fucking minutes.**_ Gregor stood there, legs apart, hands behind his back with his eyes firmly locked on the window behind Tywin's head. There is no fucking way in the world that Gregor would ever look down, even Tywin knew better than that. But Tywin knew how far he could push and he was doing it.

He is doing this because it his what he does to his children and enemies. It was a unpleasant way to start any conversation and Gregor is already in his head. Locked and loaded, that fucking temper that gets him, used to get him in trouble.

_**Twenty. Sweet Mother of Mercy, I'll kill him. I can twist the old fuck's head right off like a dolly...a grandpa dolly.** _

Gregor started to take slow deep breaths.

_**Scratch, scratch, I will shove that pen in his fucking eye and I'm going to pull his eye out like a fucking lollipop and hand it to his cunt daughter, calm down before you sweat. I could just kill him, rape and kill his daughter and that red headed cunt. Keep Tommen and force him to sign everything to me. I could do it, I have the boys to back me up. I can do it and I need to calm the fuck down.** _

_**Twenty Five, he does this on purpose, he KNOWS MY FUCKING TEMPER PROBLEM! So it is a test or a humiliation it doesn't matter. Your own fucking boys, hell, that brat has taken your punishments but you can't take this? I. Am. Talking. To. Myself. Enough. Thirty, sorry but that is too fucking much and-how fucking DARE-"** _

Tywin looked up and spoke very mildly. "Those clothes looked good on you today. I am quite sure they felt even better than they looked. Do you still wake up suddenly at night afraid you won't feel silk? Do you still feel that prison rough woven cloth against your skin? Or rough workman pants that you wore whenever you weren't in some form of an institution?"

That was all it took and Gregor was calm, he was able to breathe and oh gods, he hated Tywin Lannister. But he was loyal, sweet gods, he had literally signed his life over to this man in order to never feel that again. To never think of it again.

The dreams had lessened but Gregor knows this will certainly pep those fucking dreams right up again.  Tywin smirked and Gregor stared straight ahead while imaging fluffy cute kittens playing in the blood of Tywin.

The man stood up and began to pace in front of Gregor, both of them with their hands behind their backs.

 _ **It's so we don't kill each other and I am loyal and won't bite off one of his ears.**_ "I lost a man today. Francis Rivers." He managed somehow by some pure miracle to keep his voice level. "Arya Stark was disfigured by a bullet that grazed through her face. It does not impair her." Tywin nodded.

"I will write Francis's family tonight. Your men may take tomorrow for grieving along with you. I have called my brother Kevan and he is coming with some of his men. Take your day and use it well. Mourn your man and take a rest for all of you to reflect upon what it means to work for me."

Gregor gritted his teeth. _ **Don't do it, do not smash his head like melon. Maybe I can just murder him a little, just a tiny bit of it, oh shit, looks like I am opening my mouth. Stick to words, do not bite him, do not bite and don't think about the fireplace with a little fire going even though it's fucking spring, you old fuck!**_

"Sir, we did the best we could with what you have given us. You set the limitations upon me when I advised you against it. I spent hours with that technician to create a system you wouldn't permit us to use during the celebrations. I asked you for more men while you had your party and you wouldn't let me!"

Tywin stared at Gregor as if he were a cat that decided to tap dance across the floor.

"I told you when we were coming South to take your very best men with us. Did you perhaps bring the wrong men? If I have too many men crawling like ants around our estates how do you think that will look? I PAY you and your men for your talents and your hard work. So explain to me how the boys got past you all with guns? Or how that many north men got to burning MY home and YOURS. Do not bother speaking back, Gregor. There is no excuse. My grandson was poisoned right in front of you. But it seems I have been failed all around. Ned is still alive and this is another vexing thing."

"Do you want me to kill him?" Gregor would gladly go and murder Ned if it would get him the fuck out of this room. "No. Not yet. He will be searching for both Robb and Rickon. Let him see if he can find them and if he does, well, then you have more targets. I want them all dead but it cannot look like a hit. So best to try for as many of them as you can at once so it can be some kind of accident."

Gregor nodded and started to not scream while ripping Tywin's arm off and beating him with it. He suggested doing that a fucking week ago and was told to be patient.

Tywin stopped directly in front of Gregor now.

"I don't care who poisoned my sadistic mad dog grandson. If it was Sansa, it will teach us to be a little more clever than she is. If it was Margeary then I certainly do understand why she did it. However, it doesn't help her innocence any that her brother kept apologizing for things. I have a feeling that Loras is the one who let the northerners in. So regardless of whether Margeary poisoned Joff or not, she and her brother will pay. Because they are guilty of at least half of this day's events. Find out what Loras knows, what he did that he is so sorry for. Report back to me on it. After you take your day off, of course."

Gregor was grinding his teeth to stubs and he thought about just reaching out and snatching Tywin's face off.

"How long will your brother be here, Sir?" **_I could just take the nose off and I bet he'd keep talking._**

"I am not sure yet. He will be advising me since I seem to need a new perspective." Tywin's eyes clashed into Gregor's. _**I will stare into your eyes until you die and turn to fucking dust, old man.**_

Gregor's eyes drilled through Tywin's skull as those pale eyes tried to bore into his own. "Thank you for the day off to grieve for our fallen friend." Tywin nodded as their staring contest continued. "And?"

"No. We did the best we could, Sir. I will not apologize for a blunder we could have prevented with at least one of those requests had been approved." 

Tywin's eyes clashed with Gregor's and the testosterone filled the room.

Finally, Tywin gave a sharp nod. "Very well. We shall agree to disagree. You may go."

Gregor left in a haze of anger that carried him like a fuzzy warm red cloud to his half torched home. He stood outside for several minutes. He liked his new slave and if he is this angry he might kill or break her. That will only make things worse.

So he waited for twenty minutes before he went inside. He opened the door and saw Waif kneeling on the floor offering a semi soft whip up for him. He breathed deeply and felt himself turning that anger into something else.

Gregor took the whip from the girl. He ordered her to strip and lean face first into the wall, curling her arms over her head. The whole time that he whipped her, she never begged. Never asked for him to stop or for mercy. She screamed when it was bad but never even moved.

Afterwards when Gregor was fully relaxed and turned her around, her face wasn't just in painful twists. There was a look of peace in her eyes as if something was purged from her.


	65. Crawling On the Ceiling And Lost In Dreamland

Reek stayed curled in a ball under Ramsay's feet while Robb glared at him and Ramsay from his own hunched position upon a cage. Ben had his large kennel van and they were hiding in it as Ben drove. Reek felt it was all a dream, this was insane, they couldn't be running away from the north.

_All of his friends couldn't have died. It wasn't possible, this was not real. Ramsay was the hunter, never the hunted, maybe Robb has decided to join his Master in a trick. Yes, if it was real then it was a game. Had to be._

"Who would be worse, my father or Tywin catching us?" Ramsay asked pleasantly. With a grimace, Robb responded, "Tywin." Snorting, Ramsay sounded a bit amused.

"Wrong. Your father will kill me and Reek the second he catches us. He will murder everyone that was near you then he will take you home. Daddy will give you a terrible punishment and then it will be on track again. Good son will be a good Stark pup. Well, until Tywin has you all killed. Now, if it's Tywin that gets to us, he wants you dead more than me."

Robb sneered and snapped back, "It wouldn't be Tywin though, it would be Gregor and the others..including Arya! I am sure that shot didn't kill her. They aren't going to bring you back to see Tywin to talk. They are going to slaughter us slowly." They are heading to meet Luton and Yellow Dick.

Robb shivers at both the sight and the name of that yellowish tattooed thin man. He moves like a praying mantis and his eyes are a piss yellow mixed with shit brown. His voice is offensive even when speaking politely. Luton looks like a short lunk but seems to have the intelligence for the both of them.

Leaning back and closing his eyes, Robb tries to understand how this is happening. They are heading out of the North at a rapid pace.

_I am trying to outrun my father and the Mountain, along with his men. Along with my own sister._

He decided to doze then later he will try to figure out how this is happening.

_My brother Jon is dead. All my brothers are dead, if Rickon is missing this long, he is dead. By Lannister, By Bolton, who knows, but he is dead. I was trying to do the right thing, save the North._

Dusten received a text as he stepped out of the shower. He smirked as he read out loud, "I heard you have a day off tomorrow to grieve for your fallen friend. I am very sorry to hear of your loss. I lost my son today too. If you don't mind staying up late, why don't you come to my room after telling Polivar that you'll take his shift. We can comfort each other."

Raff had been brushing his teeth, having only two bathrooms means a lot of sharing personal space.

"Are you kidding me? HER SON JUST DIED! HER SON! And she wants to fuck? Wow, dude, that is fucking cold. Yeah, she is hot for her age but still...I mean I am pretty cruel person and I know that. But to want to fuck after having her son die in her arms just a few hours ago? Wow. That is cold."

Dusten shrugged and finished drying off. "If you fucked her, you would understand that it doesn't matter how cold she is on the outside."

A snap of Raff's fingers and suddenly Jeyne appeared. As Raff set out the make up kit, Jeyne patiently knelt at his side. For her extreme loyalty, Raff had gifted the girl with knee pads and padded gloves to wear while crawling.

"I would rather have my girl to play with. At least I know at all times what she does, when she does it and why. She is so loyal, she killed her former lover for me. Cersei will use you then throw you away when she is done sucking the life out of you. She will get you in trouble, no doubt." Raff declared gently petting the head of the trembling girl.

Dusten looked down at the slave and shuddered. Her long black hair was in her face, nearly covering all of her features.  It looked like a scene from a horror movie. On occasion one eye just sort of appears through the hair like it just wants to check out things, maybe say fucking hi, who knows.

Every time it happens, Polivar leans forward with a smile and brightly asks, "And how is every little thing on Eyeball Island today, dear?" But it makes Dusten get creepy skin and he thinks of that movie The Ring. He thinks whatever Raff turned her into might indeed have a deadly heart.

Raff moves his hand in a upward gesture and the girl unfolds and stands. It isn't any less creepy than when she crawls and Dusten starts to hurry applying his hydration lotion. Raff moves the girl's hair out of her face and that doesn't help either, nope, sorry.

The girl has such a blank look, the eyes only see Raff. Only then do they seem to show any signs of life. It was a living doll, a breathing robot. He has heard Hotpie seem to have not just full conversations but even arguments with her. But not once did he hear her respond or watch and see any response.

"Dude, Cersei has fucking desire, emotion, she can speak, we both are excited, ya know?"

Sighing, Raff started to apply Jeyne's make up.

"I have told you before so many times...she has emotion, she does speak when I let her. She isn't a robot or unfeeling, just well trained. Don't bring up Hotpie. I told you, they have just learned a system of communication where Jeyne can obey my no speaking rule. It's like when twins have their own language. You watch way too much horror and science fiction, really. Well, enjoy your cougar but be cautious. I have to go and hopefully find a bunch of slaves that can build or at least use a fucking hammer."

Raff began to fix Jeyne's hair. Dusten used his body spray while keeping an eye on the creepy girl. "Someday your pet will scuttle across a ceiling, propelled by a demon or alien or hell, or just pure insanity run rampant. Then as we die I will tell you I told you so." He ducked as Raff threw a hairbrush at him.

Finishing the braid and yanking it so Jeyne head went backwards, Raff lightly kissed the top of her nose. The look and affection was that of a man to his favorite dog, his best bitch. "My girl would never crawl on the ceiling or kill us. Tell him if you would do those things, Jeyne." His voice was playful and affectionate and then a bit firmer when he ordered, "Free speech, Jeyne."     

To Dusten's horror, after the soft, Yes Master, the girl turned her head and for a brief moment looked straight at Dusten.

"I can hear every thing and understand every thing said and done around me. Hotpie and I have done what Master said. We communicate differently so I may obey my Master's orders. I will not scuttle across ceilings, I am not possessed, there is no alien in me and I would never kill my Master or any of you." Raff smirked then snapped his fingers. Jeyne was facing her Master again, waiting for further orders and Dusten knew nothing would convince him that she wasn't creepy.

Raff added earrings and a small stud in her nose as he started to complain to his friend who was now fixing his hair with the thrown hairbrush.

"Thank the gods that Gregor loves that perfect little slave I found him. Kept him from eating my head over those paintings. Now if you want to talk about a truly blank creature, look at Waif. She was what I found creepy. I mean not one mistake, no hesitation on any order? As if she anticipated everything I would ask or the others would do. At first I was suspicious. I interrogated her in case she was some bleeding heart journalist or investigator of some sort. Nothing. I used serum, I applied a bit of stressful testing...nothing. But I didn't want to keep her, I wanted to send her off to the highest bidder as fast as I could. I was THRILLED to give her away to Gregor."

Raff stood back and surveyed his work on Jeyne. "Good. Go in the bedroom and get out the red dress. Put on everything else, I will help you with the dress. Walk and be very careful of your face and hair. Good girl, go." Without a sound, the girl left the room and Dusten shivered.

"Both of them are fucking creepy, dude. Both of them. I'll stick with a devious cougar, thanks. Good luck with finding your builders. Maybe you should check at the lab you found Waif wandering in front of. Or maybe just grab a bunch of them and then sacrifice their souls to a demonic force or whatever you did to Jeyne. Just sayin."

Dusten didn't move fast enough and the hair straightener caught him in the left shoulder.

Raff smiled then said, "Cersei slept with her brother. And I was just thinking, you look an awful lot like him from a distance....and you ARE her cousin, right? She does love to keep it in the family."

Raff ducked then both swore when the hair straightener hit the mirror and it cracked. 

Cersei was in a fine rage. It was as fine as silk, fine as the edge of a blade. It towered like a flickering, licking fire, it soared like a dragon and swept her away like the finest drug. Her father won't see her or speak with her, no one will and Joff is dead, still hard to believe and they were ATTACKED. Roose was killed, others died, the boys of the north decided to make a rush for it and nearly succeeded. It was intolerable, all of it.

Margeary killed her son, she was sure of it. Sansa didn't, Cersei KNOWS what the girl has been through. But that cunning cunt that poisoned her son, oh she always wanted him. Wanted to sink her claws into him and his money, make him cast his mother away. It would have destroyed her that she lost him a second time. Margeary's grandmother dumped her and so the bitch worked Sansa to let her in for revenge.

Letting her rage and the wine course through her, Cersei made a plan as her body became hungry and wet. She waited for Dusten. She still thought of him as Lancel, her cousin. The first few times she saw him after he joined Gregor's company she accidentally called him Lancel and he got mad at her for it. Lancel and his father had a huge disagreement over his future so Lancel ran away from home. He ran to his uncle then joined Gregor's company.

Until now, Cersei has never thought or cared much about her cousin. She only noticed those she had use for or had no choice but to notice. Her handsome Casanova turned bad boy cousin was amusing, but never of any real use. As kids she enjoyed his company because he was very amusing and that continued into adulthood.

But now she is seeing a real use for her pretty new boy toy, oh yes. The sex was pretty good and he was very handsome. That was all just nice side benefits. What really makes her hot and soaked is knowing she is owning his penis, owning his body and therefore making a blank slate to play with. That by just making a few gestures and words she can make these young fools do anything she wants.

It is the power of it that makes her shriek in orgasm, not the fine specimen providing the motions. Cersei wanted something very badly and Dusten was going to provide it. She will press all his buttons, make him come until all he can spout is dust. Then when he is blank eyed and ready to obey, eager to please, Cersei can get what she wants.

Dusten showed and Cersei gave him his first taste of Absinthe.  It was recipe from the original version of the drink or at least as close as they could get. She made the boy worship her body first, she always does, it is a nice easy way to establish who is running things. The high heels are always on, even when they fuck. Cersie loves to dig those heels into her boys, she loves to make them lick the bottom of her shoes and she makes Dusten do so know, very slowly.

Other things came next, involving a cock ring, hot wax, feathers, ice and every other vanilla thing that bores Cersei. But what doesn't bore her is the look on Dusten's face. That is what she is trying to find, what makes him go blank, what makes him hers. Watching him lose himself to things he didn't know he enjoyed was fun. And finding trigger that scare or irritate her victims is fun too, usually leads to them telling her their secrets. Nothing is triggering her cousin, he is riding this ride and enjoying it.

Cersei started to use her tongue, listening to the moans, searching for that thing that one last thing to make him hers. She licked him everywhere that buttons would be. Her mouth took in his cock, then his balls, her fingers traveled lower towards his ass. But Dusten didn't seem to like that. Dammit. Getting up and leaving poor Dusten tied to the bed, squirming in agonizing lust. She thought about removing the ball gag and letting him use words to tell her what he liked.

As much as she felt impatient, Cersei knew that would be a hollow victory. No, she will explore some other options. A riding crop. A belt. A light tasseled velvet flogger. All were enjoyed and none were the button. Fuck. She thought about putting on a gigantic strap on and running at him with a large smile. Watch him scream in terror, at least it is a major fucking reaction. That is what she needs, that major reaction. Come on, he really can't just like everything the same, she thought.

She rode him and choked him, that seemed to excite him a bit more than anything else. But it wasn't quite there, but almost. So what was it Cersei was missing? No, wait, it wasn't the choking that caused the extra bit of interest, ah ha! While Cersei was choking and riding him, she had accidentally moved her thumb the wrong way. She had sucked on it for a moment while choking him to soothe the ache. Leaping off Dusten with a grin at his tortured moan, she ran for the walk in closet.

A few moments later a naughty little girl with blonde ponytails that had huge pretty pink bows in them. Cersei was wearing a girl's ruffled nightgown that was way too small at the bottom. Her pussy peeked through the ruffles as she moved, as if playing peek a boo. Dusten's eyes glued to Cersei and she gave a little girl giggle.

Cersei climbed back on Dusten as if she were a curious naughty girl that wanted to play and with a sense of victory pressed every button the helpless boy had. When the last button was pressed and Dusten was shuddering blank eyed, Cersei screamed as she let an orgasmic rush of power rip through her. Then she held the poor thing as she gently removed his fuzzy cuffs and ball gag.

"I..I'm not really into little girls...it's not like that." Of course the hidden kink had to be instantly defended, it always goes that way. Cersei soothed Dusten and caressed his cheek.

  "Silly, I have that kink too, I mean why else would I have just sort of...known, right? And I can assure you that though I may have slept with Jamie, I have never molested a child. We didn't experiment with each other until our late teens. And I think it was because we shared this kink too." Cersei lied in solemn confidence to Dusten with a blush.

Now it was okay, it was permissible and Dusten let Cersei hold him and make it all better. Blank eyed, Dusten looking up at the only person who just knew, knew what he really needed and wanted. She looked back and gave a smile that promised so much more.

"My sweet cousin, I would ask you a small favor. I need someone to care, someone to understand the pain I have right now. Would you have some wine with me and listen to me? I just...no one even bothered to talk to me, they just took away my son and sent me here to sleep."

The tears came, the wine came and Dusten drowned.


	66. Sorry Not Sorry

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to Sh*tmouth for the lovely dusten's reaction and for how cersei had margeary die.

It took Cersei less than twenty minutes and another absinthe before Dusten led her through the tunnels underground.

"Remember, only a few minutes and you can't injure them." Nodding, Cersei added brightly, "And I cannot kill them. Since you already frisked me for weapons, guess we are good. You don't need to keep repeating the damned directions, love. Heard you the first time. Now unlock the door. I just want to hear her side for myself. Then tomorrow I can hear Sansa's side. I need this, you said you understood that."

Dusten hurried to wipe the hurt look off her face by unlocking the door. "Alright..fine. Here, go in." Cersei swept past him as he turned on the lights. She shielded her eyes for a second as the two twins cried out and fell down covering their eyes. Patiently, Cersei waited until the two could see before moving or speaking.

"Hello, poppets. You don't look well at all. Oh dear, didn't they even leave you some water..or some way for Loras to clean himself a little? That is awful. I really am sorry about that and if I had any power over this, I would change it."

Margeary glared at Cersei. "Thanks for coming to gloat, bitch. Always leave it to you to kick someone after they are down." Tsking, Cersei began to circle Margeary. She had no fear the girl would attack her, not with Dusten looming over them.

"I am gloating, I love to gloat..but that isn't really why I am here. You see, I heard you accuse Sansa and that makes me very curious. I don't like her and I really don't like you. But I did love my son very much and I want to know who really killed my little boy. Physical torture gives whatever truth the torturer wants to hear. I want to hear the real truth, so please. Convince me it was Sansa. Then I will ask her to do the same."

The desperate girl's eyes showed the slight hint of hope and Loras was even sitting up now. That is when the elegant fist slammed hard into Margeary's mouth, rammed all the way in. It wasn't until Dusten pulled Cersei back that he even noticed that huge ring she always wore,that the glass stone was open.

Mageary began to cough and clutch at her throat, scratching deep wounds into her neck. Cersei watched in contentment as Loras rushed over and held his convulsing, dying sister, sobbing and screaming. Taking a few steps back, the woman gave a gentle smile to Mageary as the girl fell down and blood came out of her mouth, her eyes were bulging, vessels ripping apart in the whites of her eyes.  

"Oh fuck, oh fuck, shit, fuck..." Dusten stared at the girl scratching at the horrors in her throat. He started to rub his temples and think this through. "Why did you do that? Fuck, I need to call...oh fuck, Gregor. He'll kill me. I'm fucking dead. I am going to be fucking Francis now!" 

Dusten was texting Gregor and babbling at her. "He's gonna kill me. Oh fuck, why, why did I fucking let you...fuck! Gregor is going to kill me! Your father will probably kill you!"

Cersei grabbed Dusten's face and whispered, "It is worth any punishment. It was my eldest son. My boy. It was my right to kill her. I am sorry you will get in trouble, but I am grateful that you were brave enough to help me do this. I will support you any way I can, Dusten. We can tell them it was all my fault."

He groaned, yeah, letting her take all the blame is how it will go and he can already feel the ghost of Tickler laughing at him. _How does it feel to sink straight to the bottom, buddy?_

 

"Aww, don't be a fucking baby! Come on, just look in the mirror! If you are going to keep me up all night, then at least amuse me. Take the damned bandage off and look!"

Brat scowled and within the soothing cocoon of painkillers she began to carefully remove her bandage. Sandor had to check for seepage and add ointment as ordered by Qyburn every two hours all night. So he was making everything a game to keep himself both awake and amused.

"You can remove it yourself this time around and then I'll add the ointment and re-wrap. But you might as well look and get used to it now before tomorrow when everyone sees you. Don't be a wimp, take a fucking look!" Sandor yawned and leaned against the wall, half asleep.

She shut her eyes at first then opened them and stared hard at the long red scar. It was swollen, blood red and made her look like an angry, scarred weasel. "Well fuck. I never looked pretty anyway." Sandor saw the tears that welled in her eyes and he rolled his own. He lumbered forward so he was filling the mirror behind her. Leaning down over her shoulder, his ugly visage appeared next to hers in the reflection.

"When I was young and my brother did this to my face and ear I cried my fucking ass off. For a week then never cried again. You can't afford a week to cry. So go on and cry all you want tonight, it's your only chance to."

Brat opened her mouth to swear and instead she shoved her back into his chest, sobbing. He wrapped his arms around her and hugged while sighing loudly. "Go on, get it all out. Don't worry, I'll still fuck you anytime you want." Brat stepped back hard onto his foot and grumbled, "You smell. Maybe once you learn to wear deodorant we can fuck."

Then Brat cried for a face that was as torn up as the rest of her world. When she was done crying, she felt calm and empty. Like she would never care enough about something to cry over it again.

 

Tyrion sat in a chair waiting as his father continued writing at his desk.

The pen scratched and Tyrion recalled a funny joke, then a good movie and then an excellent book. After that he counted sums and began to softly hum. He eyed the carafe of wine but when he tried to reach for it the pen had stopped and his father just stared at Tyrion's hand. With a disgruntled sigh Tyrion let go of the wine and had leaned back in his chair again. 

After a full half hour, Tyrion broke.

"Father, it is very late and I am very tired. It is a troublesome time, yes, but sleep heals all they say. So what do you want?" Tywin peered up then seemed to finish what he was writing for another moment before putting his pen down. "You want to drink, not sleep. With your little buddies that you call friends and employees. Which I find ridiculous of course, you cannot be friends with your workers, but you will discover that on your own."

Tywin put his hands on the table and leaned over slightly and stared down with clear disapproval of his son.

"It's time you grew up and stopped acting like an overage teenager. You must earn this elegance you live in. Sansa needs about six months before she can publicly come out of mourning to show affection or an engagement to another. You will marry her in private tomorrow. Your uncle Kevan will be here and can be the witness to it. We shall keep it private until the end of the six months. But we cannot let Sansa go back home and her father and mother will insist she does if she isn't tied to us."

Tyrion's jaw dropped. He held up a hand then responded very slowly and clearly.

"Let me get this right, let me really understand what you are saying, father. You are making a traumatized, abused young lady who's abusive fiance just died in her arms marry me. Someone who is old enough to be her own dad, never mind the extremely obvious other objections to this! Is that what you are saying? All to keep her from going home."

Tywin gave a tiny humorless smile.

"Yes. You understand. Good. You always were a clever, smart boy. Now you shall comply. You may tell her yourself since you are understanding it so well. Tell her tonight or after breakfast, but you will tell her and you marry her." 

 

Sansa strode fast back and forth across her room, red hair whipped behind her when she would turn. An angry swirl of fire and Sansa breathed in small bursts, her manicured nails pressing hard into her fists. This won't do, this can't do. The building of a fiery triumph, a furious joy and yet somehow she was in pain. It hurt because she played it for so long...it was very hard not to believe in Joff as her whole hellish world.

To her shame, there was a part of her already gone, that was his. He broke her body and for a small time he took her power. Sansa would flinch and beg so easily, it started to be safe to always please him, everything had to be safe. It became her world for so long that part of her was still there.

As soon as she woke up, she flew out of the bed. Sansa fought the sedative and drank three energy drinks from her small personal fridge. She brushed her hair a little but not as smooth or nice as she normally would. Sansa put on a very conservative and innocent nightgown with a matching robe. White, pink and a touch of gold, it was over sized and made her look younger than her real age.

Sansa knew that either Cersei or Tywin or perhaps both at separate times, would show up. Cersei will want to hear the details of how guilty Margeary is. Tywin will want to hear if Sansa is positive of her facts against Margeary or to speak of her staying with them. Or it could even be one of her parents demanding that she return home. That is the worst of all the thoughts in her hectic, excited mind.

_No, I need to be upset, Joff had become my world. I need to seem lost, sad, helpless and scared. Fragile yet angry with Margeary's deception and feeling guilty to have trusted her. I need to convince them to let me stay, not to be tossed back into the clutches of my parents. And I look high, I look happy and that cannot be seen. But I am so tired, so fucking sick of the act, it hurts, it is chipping away at me and ripping some of my parts away. What will I be when I finally achieve my goals?_

These are bad thoughts and not what Sansa needs. It may be late at night but that is when the high society does their worst deeds. That is when they make secret plans, pass messages, have secret meetings, hurt, maim and murder. And someone will certainly knock on her door for a private matter tonight.

So Sansa needs to look exactly like an abused, confused and scared widow. Longing for her abuser because she has become so accustomed to his orders. As Sansa paced she tried to cast her mind back to something very sad and scary that happened to her recently. One day Sansa was looking for Arya to discuss the wedding.

She was informed that Arya could be found training at the center near the Barracks. Sansa hadn't walked beyond the gardens before. It was her first foray towards the men's quarters. She saw the square looking gym but then Sansa saw Jeyne. Without any thought, Sansa rushed forward and called, "Jeyne! It's me, Sansa. Hey, Jeyne."

Sansa froze when she noticed Jeyne flinch hard then curl into herself. Jeyne was sitting with a boy, shucking corn on the back steps of the Barracks. Sansa had heard the boy talking and assumed Jeyne had responded. She sees the scars, the bruises, how thin Jeyne was. Jeyne's hair covered her face and most of her curled body. When they were in school and afterwards when she was with Damon, Jeyne was always proud of her thick black hair.

She would braid it, decorate it,style it in complicated ways to show it off. Now it looks barely brushed. Sansa remembered Jeyne has being fun, sarcastic, loud, rebellious and just a bit dangerous. This girl can't be Jeyne, it must be a mistake.

The boy stood up. Now Sansa remembered this boy, Arya's friend, but she remembered him much heavier. He only seems husky but the face was the same as was the self important pleading whine.

"She can't talk to you. She doesn't speak unless Raff gives her permission." Piggy waited patiently for the inevitable questions.

Sansa moved a little closer but Jeyne curled fully under her hair. Stopping again, Sansa asked, "Where is Raff? I will ask him for permission to speak with me." Now the girl began to let out a small whimper and Sansa knew she was about to bolt if she continued in in this way.

"Please don't scare her like that. Jeyne isn't allowed visitors. She isn't allowed to speak without permission and if you make her upset, her discipline will be on your shoulders. Try living with that kind of guilt, it builds." Piggy gave a humorless smirk and Jeyne gave a tiny giggle from behind her hair. The boy was careful to move so he was blocking her now and Sansa had blinked away tears and nodded.

"I understand. I am sorry. If there had ever been any way....I really am sorry, Jeyne."

Sansa fled then cried in the shower over it. Raff had promised her that for a wedding present he would let her have a visit with her friend. If she didn't poison Joff before the wedding happened, would Raff have keep his word and leave her alone with Jeyne? Maybe she could ask Joff to intervene or...something, to save Jeyne, or ask Joff to buy Jeyne for her? Or just simply steal Jeyne and suffer whatever fucking hell her husband would put her through for it.

And Sansa had cried harder because she knew that she couldn't wait. Not for a second longer than the wedding dinner to end this torment. Like any good performer she is beyond tired. She is burnt out and a hollow shell is left. Her own personality is become lost and she is confused, tired. Suddenly, she is believing the fake her is the real one.

The real Sansa is terrified too. She is willing to do anything Joff wants just _please don't hurt me anymore._ It started to be easy to forget, to just sink down and hope that she won't give Joff any reason to hurt her.

Raff will keep Jeyne and Sansa has to live with that. She can only save one person. And that person must be herself. Jeyne is already broken and Sansa fears if she delays any longer she will be like that too.

 

When the knock on the door came, Sansa was ready for it. Her eyes were red and large tears rolled down her cheeks. In her shining eyes, was guilt, pain and a fear of who or what she is now. 


	67. Doing What Must Be Done To Hold The Fuck On

When Raff returned with Jeyne he was boasting of how he managed to actually find some actual builders. The builders got to pick among the other slaves who they think would work well. They were given a full hot meal and a bed for eleven hours of rest.

Raff murmured to Jeyne, "That is the last time they will sleep well for a long time. Until those homes are fixed. Aren't you so grateful that you were never thrown into the slavers hands." His voice cooed as if he were reading her a loving poem." Jeyne instantly agreed, shivering at the horrific warning. He grinned and petted her head.

He sat down with Polivar and they began to play cards. Polivar sighed after awhile and said, "Can you let Jeyne go have a fucking play-date with Piggy? Just for annoying the fuck out of me, he has earned himself a good old fashioned ass paddling later. So can they just have their creepy little chat so Piggy will stop THE FUCKING PUSSY POUT! AND STOP WITH THE COUNTER!"

Piggy had backed up from the counter he had been washing for the last thirty minutes. His face was resolute, it was resigned and it was in full pout but he jumped when Polivar yelled. "Sorry, Master." He muttered.

With a snort, Raff shot Piggy a look but he softly spoke to Jeyne. She had been still and silent, kneeling at his side, back in her regular clothes and knee pads. "Jeyne, go play. Be. very. good." Jeyne cringed onto her stomach then squirmed to kiss and lick Raff's boot to assure him of how good she will be. "Good girl. Go play." Raff gave her a firm but somehow comforting pat on her head and now it was alright to really go.

Jeyne knew her rules, she knew to obey. She knew how all the games go now and she knows what her Master likes. Most importantly she has learned what Master doesn't like. Master doesn't mind that Jeyne is friends with Piggy but sometimes he snaps no. He will search to find any small reason to punish her afterwards. So Jeyne is always very grateful and submissive when her kind Master allows her to see a friend.

Master whispers that to her later after she sees her friend. He will whisper it while Master tries a new toy or game that will make her beg and cry. But it was worth having a friend. And it is something that Polivar threatens to take away from Piggy if he angers him. A burnt dinner can cost a strapping and the loss of a visit.

Jeyne crawled and Piggy swallowed hard then beckoned to the girl to go out to the porch. Polivar suddenly yelled, "You better not be smoking back there again, Piggy!" "No, Master. I wouldn't dare do that, I swear it. I just want the fresh air, we won't go off the stairs. Please? It is within our limits, Master. Please?"

Piggy wrung his hands and Jeyne simply waited, kneeling. She looks as if she didn't care of the outcome. Silent, head down, her face if seen,  would be submission, fear and simple understanding. It was a slave look and that was what Jeyne was. She might not live in those horrid conditions those others did but she was a slave as much as them. It has been accepted and the fear simply became a part of who she was.

Raff wasn't just her Master, he was her God. And deities are known to be loving and very cruel as well. Jeyne was grateful to be the slave that serves. The look is of a disciple, a priestess, of a young nun that serves with desperate belief that this is the way to be loved, to recieve mercy. And she truly was grateful to be allowed the mercy of having a friend to communicate with. That she can connect with and enjoy trying to talk to.

It was her only small link left to sanity, to having a moment where someone else can bring her out a little. To remind her what being a human meant. To make her mind work again, get the gears going.  At first it was all Piggy talking and Jeyne shaking or nodding her head timidly. As it seemed to be fine, not a trick of some sort, Jeyne began to try and find a way to speak.

Piggy tried to bring out small pieces of paper and a pencil stub. They were so scared that one of the men would come out and suddenly there would be a rule against writing. So after he hurried and read whatever Jeyne scribbled, he ate the paper.

That wasn't going to work. Using hand signals will catch their Masters eye's and everything they say will be known. And it probably would annoy the shit out of Polivar. He always is yelling at Piggy for moving his hands when he talks.

So they needed codes, something no one but them would ever see or notice. Piggy could speak and then read what Jeyne said back to him. And if Piggy wanted to say something privately he himself would use the code. What do they have plenty of and no one would thing anything about?

Scars. Wounds. Bruises. Each kind of damage has a full meaning to it, even noting it's severity. If Jeyne were yelling at Piggy, such as when he was smoking, she would have indicated to him her deep scar on her upper arm. It indicated "Hey asshole, do you want a fucking whipping? Cause Polivar will be so happy to give you one! You stupid ass monkey!"

Piggy must supply his own words for what she means, but he is sure he always gets it correct. At least most of the time. The different lashes upon her body can create an alphabet. Fingers sweep across the different lashes when no one is looking and Piggy gets real words. But it can take forever to put a sentence together. They learned each other though and that helped. Body language did a great deal of talking for Jeyne.

Jeyne crawled onto the cool wooden boards of the porch then sat on the colder step. Piggy sat so close that he crowded her. She was about to shove him away when he whispered into her ear, "I killed Tickler." Jeyne was very deliberate as she touched each whip line and Piggy read the word out loud. "Good."

Piggy burst into silent tears and Jeyne held him tightly as if he were a child. She stroked his hair and rocked him back and forth.

Gregor was having another rare but needed visit to the frustrated technician. They didn't enjoy each others company but both empathized deeply with the others frustrations concerning Tywin. "Where are they now?" Gregor asked, looming over the smaller man who was trying to make his fingers go faster than light speed.

"If you could sit down or at least not breathe in my ear I would be able to concentrate better, Gregor." The voice was polite, but it was firm and fearful at the same time.

"Boy, I could squish your head with one hand." Gregor snarled. The tech flinched a bit at that but replied, "Yes you could. But if you do that then there is no one else to do this for you. So who do you want to kill more? Me? Or the men that are almost out of the North?"

The giant seemed to consider this with a puff of air upon the head just below him. It ruffled his hair and the tech cringed. Gregor stepped back and stood straight. "Don't make me repeat the fucking question."

The tech showed Gregor a green dot upon the map on the screen. "Okay there they are. Once they cross that line up ahead they are out of my range. So tell me when, please."

As soon as Raff had come outside and understood what had happened, he ran. Past the burning houses, past the Barracks. He skidded and turned to the basement of his home and yanked it open. Grabbing a small metal case, Raff ran to find the getaway car.

He crept up behind the white van and very carefully squirmed under the metal that ticked as it cooled and heated. Raff attached the tracker and a small bomb. After he left the area, he texted Gregor it was done.

The tech has not only created this himself but actually hand made the bomb. Licking his lips, carefully, so carefully the man's fingers caressed the buttons that would turn the van into a fireball. Gregor saw that the dot was just a half mile before losing range. He opened his mouth and his phone alerted him to an urgent text. Face sweaty and twisted in oily need, the tech waited while Gregor checked his text.

"Motherfucker. I'm gonna kill him. Tywin's gonna fucking kill him. Kevan will kill him. Stupid prick." Gregor stared with narrowing eyes as the tech spoke. "Actually, you can only kill someone once. But you could all kill him together, at the same time. Please, can I press the fucking button before we lose them?" The man's voice was high pitched and strained now.

Gregor nodded and the boy pressed the button while grinning happily at the giant. "And they all go boom!" he said and gave a twitch. Oh gods, he had a fucking hard on and he tried to hide it under his desk. "Bout fucking time you blew them up." Gregor grumbled. "I can't deal with your drama anymore. I have to go kill an idiot."

Pausing, he will need this little shit again and the pussy was shaking in indignation. Gregor managed to speak in a civil tone in spite of his anger. "Thank you for all your hard work. It was really brilliant and I am sure we shall have need of it again. You did a great job, Olyvar."

The man coolly responded, "You are welcome. That is why Petyr recommended me after all. Because I am the best. And thanks to me, your wayward runaway boys have been located and eradicated."

Gregor shook his head and left before he broke that smug, brilliant, little shit into a million pieces.

Ramsay, Robb and Reek all stood with dangling arms, jaws slack as they stared at the fiery carnage that a moment ago was Ben's van. Ben had stayed in it idling the engine while the boys used a bathroom and bought some drinks and snacks. They figured they were far enough, almost at the line into the east. Bladders emptied, snacks and drinks neatly packaged in the bag, all is well and then boom.

"Oh fuck...they would have..." Robb managed then Reek said weakly, "Master...we need to run, get to the trains or subway or something, we need to go right now. Please!" Ramsay nodded then grabbed onto his pet and shoved Robb hard. They ran, following the train tracks until they found the gated arch of the staircase leading down.

With a sob of relief, Reek nearly collapsed against Ramsay, who simply lifted him over his shoulder. He kept going, running down the stairs, Robb already ahead of him. They ran through tunnels, stopped to buy tickets and then waited for a ride out of hell. The train slowed and stopped while a crowd poured out to leave. Robb weaved through them and Ramsay rammed through them to get inside the last train.

"Shit. Shit. Master, oh gods Master, it's Mr. Stark! Ned, it is him!" Reek screeched as he pressed his face against the window. Robb looked out the window and paled. "It is him. And he is going to get on the train, this one." Robb's voice was quite calm even if he wasn't. The three stared at each other for a moment before they ran into the next attached car. Through the doorway they can see Ned getting on amid the crowd.


	68. Derailed Plans

Ned watched them as he swung into the car they were in. He stopped at the entrance and just tried to asses them. If only he could fully get rid of all emotion. Having Jon die and Rickon disappear, his girls not even recognizable to him, Robb was his last hope. Not only his first born son, but his only son maybe left.

He remembers Robb as a little boy how he looked up to his father. He remembers holding his son on his knee and reading to him. Even when the whole terrible thing with Theon had happened, Robb adjusted, he surrendered in the end. Where the hell was the moment when he let Robb slipped through his fingers?   

 _I can't kill my own son, I love him and I need him. I pity him, I fucking pity them all._ Ned watched as the three trembling young men looked stripped of age in their fear. Ramsay was the first shield, a mad dog grin on his feral face. His eyes were icy challenge, they were ready to go out in a blaze of glory if need be. Yet, he is holding a bloody side and he is hurting.

The broken thing that had been Theon was hiding behind Ramsay's back and Ned thought the boy was about to have a heart attack. Robb looked sick, his face was ashen and waxy, his eyes were hollow sockets and his leg was swollen, covered in bloody bandages. His hand is also covered in bloody bandages.

Robb also had pupils that were blown and Ned knew how the wounded young men kept going. Drugs and adrenaline are making them fly.

Ned looked at the sweat soaked hair, the eyes numb and hollow with fear and defeat. Their trembling limbs and fierce snarls, even the little broken one was baring some teeth at him. They slowly continued through the train into the next one as Ned followed in their path.

He wanted to show mercy. Just grab Robb and tell him if he goes with him he will let the other two go. _Let the Lannisters go after them and do the dirty work for once._ He just wants to get his son home. If only he could reach his boy, speak to him, something.

 

Sansa sat at her vanity but faced Tyrion, the last person she had expected to see at her door. She listened calmly as Tyrion explained awkwardly about his father's demands. "The good news is, I do not believe in ever hitting a woman, nor verbally abusing one and I certainly will never rape you."

With a gentle smile, a very timid one but one that seemed like a promise, Sansa spoke. "I agree of course. I wouldn't go against your father, that is one thing I have learned here. Tywin Lannister does not take no for and answer."

Tyrion smiled back and nodded. "That is true. So I shall see you in the morning and we can discuss this a little more before we are married, I hope." Sansa nodded and smiled back. "As you wish." Tyrion gave her a small look of sympathy.

"You won't always have to agree with me, you know. I enjoy a good debate on occasion." She gave a small bitter laugh. "I'm sorry, Tyrion. I'll get used to this. I just...I'll get there. I will." Sansa gave a brave grin as Tyrion left.

As soon as her new fiance left the room, Sansa huddled under the thick covers on her bed with a pillow. Then she screamed into the pillow several times. This was not good. Tyrion wasn't bad, keep him drunk and passive, he wasn't a bad choice at all. Except for one thing. He is clever and has a knack for seeing through other clever acts.

Sansa has easily avoided him as Joff hated his uncle and stayed away from him. Once they are married, Tyrion will start to see through her charade. And once he knows the truth of her, what will he do or think? She calms and pulls her secret cell phone from inside the bottom mattress. Sansa shuddered as she hit the button.

 _I need advice. I am faltering here. It's time to make THAT call. Why does it always scare me when I call? Because someday, when I least expect it, payment will be called in for all of it, for every call, every assist, every syllable_ _from every word of advice. Bill to be paid in full. And here I am calling again to add to it. Fuck._

 

Shit stained, vomit stained, sweating, stinking, sobbing Loras held his dead, vomit covered, blood drenched sister. He clutched her and hovered over her as if to protect even her corpse from their enemies. He paid little attention to the monsters anyway, they were in their own drama and not coming near him or his sister yet. 

Gregor slammed Dusten into the wall with one large hand on his throat. Dusten's feet kicked the wall as if to climb it as his hands tried to clutch at the meaty hand strangling him. His hands suddenly looked absurdly puny and ineffective. Then Gregor stuck his face in Dusten's, teeth bared. _Oh fuck, he's going to bite my face off!_

Dusten flinched as Gregor began to growl and the teeth gnashed. It slowly occurred to Dusten that the growls were words.

"You let Cersei kill Margeary. You took her in our private tunnels that NO ONE is to know of. You destroyed two priceless paintings. I am a very angry man right now, Lancel." Dusten's stomach, heart and other various organs all sank in squishing despair. Nothing is worse than your mates calling you by your old name...but to have Gregor do it?

"I'm sorry, I was wrong and stupid, Sir!"Dusten tried to to respond but it came out like a mouse squeaking. Gregor tilted his head and stared at Dusten as if he just watched a mouse turn into Minnie Pearl with a beard, singing Country Roads.

"You have angered me. You have angered Tywin, which angers me just that much worse. And guess who is here in the morning, Lancel? Your daddy is coming in the morning, sweetpea! Isn't that something wonderful? He is coming to see what a fuck up you are, which means he is coming to see what a fuck up we all are. And the fact that your father is here in the morning is the only reason you aren't getting all your bones broken tonight."

Gregor pulled Dusten away from the wall then dropped him to the ground. In a croaking voice, Dusten tried to plead while reaching out a hand on the floor. "Sir..don't let my father take me home! I am your man and I can take any punishment, work harder and-" The croak became a startled scream bit off. A very large boot crushed Dusten's hand into the floor, bones crushed inside bruised and bloody flesh.

Leaning down over Dusten, he growled, "The boys and the brat, my own brother, none of them have suffered the punishment I am going to give you. There is no leaving, fucking moron! You only leave this company the same way Tickler did. Understand? Now shut the fuck up. Are you crying? You are crying. I'm so sorry, munchkin, I am just all out of tissues today. I used my last bunch to jerk off to your mommy."

Snarling in disgust, Gregor got off Dusten's broken hand. "Uh oh, princess. Looks like you broke your hand, oh, was that your gun hand? Oh good, it isn't. I'm glad. Otherwise, daddy might insist on having you heal at home. But it isn't, so phew, right? Now, why don't you pull up your big boy pants and stand the fuck up? Look at you, snotty, all teary eyed." Gregor slowly shook his head. "Maybe you should go home, Lancel. Take a break. Think things over. Fuck a few more cougars and see how life works for you. Clearly you are gigolo material."

Dusten shook his head as he stood straight, trembling but no longer crying. "No Sir. I don't want to leave my company." Gregor came closer and squinted his eyes. "Are you sure, sweetie? Because you seem really lost, you know? Maybe some therapy, or some time to meditate? We really are a loving family, but sometimes one of our precious sweetlings just falls away for a while." Gregor's nose was against Dusten's.

"No, Sir. I am fine and wish to stay with my company." Dusten's voice shook, but clear and calming. Moving away, Gregor snarled, "I am so glad to hear that, pumpkin. Now, you get to do the clean up and that includes getting that slimy fucker naked and hosed down. Move!"

 

It was the end of this train route and three desperate kids were ready to leap to get away from a very stern looking parent. Theon thought it was funny but he couldn't laugh. Tears were running down his face but Robb was crying too. The coke made them focused and faster and the painkillers made them not care about bleeding or grinding broken bones.

Reek was cuddling his broken fingers he received from Ramsay the other night for dropping and breaking a plate. That is how panicked his Master had been about making this plan work. Now it was all gone, Ramsay failed and Reek has no idea what Ramsay might to do him for that. Ramsay told them to jump the second those doors opened and they did, all landing in a fucking jumble. Reek giggled crazily and Ramsay gave him a quick slap on the face. "No! Reek, you focus!"

Ramsay grabbed the giggling boy and zombie Robb. He decided that Robb needed a good slap too. It seemed to sharpen Robb's eyes and he glared at Ramsay's satisfaction. "Fuck you, Ramsay." Not caring, Ramsay ordered them to run and he again grabbed arms. One with tone and muscle, the other more like grabbing the arm of a skeleton. They saw Ned getting off the train just as they began to run. When Ned gave chase, Reek almost screamed out loud and his feet became a blur.

They tried to run up the stairs, meld into the crowd but there was Ned's fucking head bopping here and there in the crowd. Gasping for breath, staggering, Ramsay pulled them towards another tunnel, another train. "Listen we can go to Pyke, see Theon's family." He gasped as he threw Reek over a turnstile and then jumped over it. Reek shook his head. "No, my father died, remember Master? My sister and my uncle are fighting for control of the Islands. If I show up it looks like I am trying to claim the control for myself."

Ramsay growled then said, "This train and the next will get us to a ship. Let's visit far away, huh? Wanna see Dorne? Or fucking Mereen? Pick any location, just do it as you keep moving!" Robb had gone over the turnstile and was staring at Ramsay and Reek. "We have no idea where to go or what to do. What the fuck are we doing? We could try to negotiate with my father." Shoving Reek back, Ramsay started towards Robb just as his appeared at the end of the tunnel.

Grabbing Robb by his cheeks, hands flat but forceful, Ramsay whispered fast into his face. "Here is what your father will do. He will agree to things, then the second he gets his hands on you, he will kill Reek and myself. Is that what you want? If it is, fine. Stay here and go home to daddy and Reek and me will keep going. Your parents sold your sisters, they murdered Myrcella, a little kid. What do you think Ned is going to do to us? And to you, you might find yourself hiding in an institution for a bit. You might go away for a little bit. You know how it goes."

Shoving Ramsay away, Robb mutters, "Fine, let's fucking move then. I'm a criminal now anyway. Let's go." Ned was out of breath as he headed towards his son. There was his boy, leaning against the turnstile talking to Ramsay. Theon was standing a few feet behind them near the shadows. Stopping, Ned tried hard to fill his lungs. If only Robb would hear him, maybe...maybe. "Robb! Wait! I will make a deal! You come here. I will let them go, I swear it."

Robb stopped and turned to reply rudely to his father, Ramsay again shoved Reek way behind him. "Don't bother, Robb, keep running." He pleaded but Robb needed his closure, even if it meant a bullet. As Robb took a step forward he saw something out of the corner of his eye. Ramsay turned but not in time. The only one who actually saw the black clad and hooded man slip out of the shadow and slit Reek's throat was a shocked Ned. As soon as that blade finished it's lovely, neat line, the man melted back into the shadows and was gone.

Ramsay gave a high pitched scream and grabbed Reek as he fell. He tried to kiss Reek as his hand tried to somehow tried to staunch the fatal wound. "No, Reek! You don't have permission to die! Reek, Look at me, please! Reek, don't make me ask twice, oh gods, please...Reek, please!" Robb staggered over and with horror stared at the dead Theon. A man he loved, a boy he grew up wanting and adoring. He gave a harsh laugh then looked over at his father.

"Finally. You managed to do what you and mother have tried to do all my life. Kill the one person I have ever truly loved. You did it. Wow. Great timing, Dad. Nice." Robb's eyes looked like burnt out holes and his words were flat as if meaning meant nothing. Ramsay let his boy go onto the dirty cement and he stood up, covered in his pet's blood. Tears ran down his face and his eyes were already dead. Ned tried to deny it, he had certainly thought about putting a hit on Theon, but he never did.

"It wasn't me, son. Ramsay, I didn't do it, why would I?" Ramsay barked out a thing that was almost a laugh and snarled out, "He was helpless, he never has hurt anyone, he only wanted someone to love him and care for him! It wasn't Theon's fault that Robb fell in love with him! It wasn't Reek's fault that I fell in love with him! He was innocent. Why? You would do it so the problem is gone! Your wife would order it just to hurt us in a way that won't physically injure her precious but naughty son!"

That reasoning alone convinced Robb and Ned shook his head in despair. "No, don't do it, Robb! Please!" Robb and Ramsay swung out their guns and so did Ned. If Reek had still been alive he would have made a sarcastic or funny comment on the fact that all three of the killers were crying as they fired.

 

As a clocked ticked and it informed Jaq it was quarter past four in the morning. He picked up the cell phone he will destroy soon and made a quick call.

"Yes?" "It is done." "Thank you." Asha hung her phone and tried to drink her guilt away.

Jaq destroyed the phone and the clothing, anything that made Jaq. Then a plain business man took a bus to an airport.

He wondered why Waif was hanging around there, but then again that girl was known to go off the rails a bit. If there was trouble, she knows how to contact their group. Jaq got to the private airport. As he entered the plane, he became Harold.


	69. A Pink Cold Morning

Cersei sat in the hard wooden chair listening to the scratching of her father's pen. In the past when she was called to the study, she tried to play all sorts of games to try and out-wait her father. It always failed. Though she liked to think that her brothers always broke before her when they were all together called to account. On many occasions Tyrion was the one who remained completely composed but he never counts anyway. 

She would tap out songs, math questions, recite to herself favorite bands, their members, her favorite movies played in her head. Cersei would finally weaken and would wail, "Can I at least have a tissue? Or something equally stupid and then her father would look up with that fucking triumphant smirk.

But not today, not the woman sitting on a chair looking out the window at the pale pink sky. 

A black plain dress that fell to the floor, long sleeves, reasonable cleavage. Cersei's hair was in a messily made braid and her face was only graced by the pink cold light from the window.

Tywin has never seen his daughter appear before him undone, not since she was at least eight. She never twitched, never moved or cast her eyes about. There were no breathing exercises nor any other technique many have tried. They have no idea he has a tiny mirror in a fake award he gave himself.

So many years he has enjoyed this trick of waiting until his victim is nearly crazed then he pounces. Only Tyrion ever managed to stay composed once he hit his teens. Oh how that pissed Tywin off and whatever punishment was coming was instantly doubled.

He watched Cersei with concern. Not a movement that was stressed. He looked up and stopped writing. Cersei didn't even look at him until Tywin cleared his throat.

"Yes, Father? You called for me?" Tywin stared at her for a second as he tried to keep his temper.

"Young lady, you killed MY prisoner last night. Margeary was to be questioned before killed." Tywin's voice was inner Cersei's dreaded Daddy voice. That usually quells any resistance in a heartbeat.

Not this time, instead Cersei gave a dry laugh. "Young lady? I haven't been young for quite awhile. Yes, I killed the bitch that killed my son. You should thank me for it, now you only have one whiny twin left." Cersei went back to staring out the window.

Tywin snapped to his feet, full height and strode from behind the table. He grabbed Cersei by her arm and yanked her to her feet.

"Look at me. Right now." Tywin glared at Cersei who glared back and then spoke. "I don't have time for your fucking eye challenge games today. Do you remember that my son died? MY SON DIED! That is all I care about right now. You want to punish me for it, go for it! I don't give a flying fuck what plans you have! Right now I don't give a shit for your orders. Leave me alone to grieve!"

Cersei shoved forward towards her father and her bones seemed to sharpen in the early yellow lines. "I know you can't comprehend this well, so let me try it this way. Remember how it felt when mother died? That gut wrenching fucking pain-"

Tywin's hand came down with a crack on Cersei's cheek. "Don't you ever..." He stopped. His voice was nearly trembling, his eyes almost started that sting. "I have told you before never to do that. Remember that brand on your left ass cheek? Was that not enough of a reminder?"

Cersei looked back up and Tywin expected his girl to apologize. "Fuck you. Today is mine. Today I will grieve for my son and you will not take that from me. Go on and beat me, rape me, brand me, sodomize me, share me around, I don't care. I will think only of Joff today."  Tywin stared and so did his defiant daughter.

He finally gave a stiff nod. "Fine. Have your day to grieve. When it is over we will get to your punishment for killing the granddaughter of Olenna Tyrell and this behavior." Cersei gave her father the most threatening smile he has ever seen towards himself. "Thank you. And I don't care what that dried up cunt thinks of it all."

She pulled away from her father and simply walked out of the room without word or expression. Tywin huffed and put his hands behind behind his back, pacing.

It isn't a real concern. After all, that was Cersei's favorite child and losing him must be hard. Once she has her day of grief she will return to normal. Oh, he cannot wait until it is time for her punishment. And Cersei will remember her place and act like herself again.

 

Kevan was not happy. Dear gods, it was chilly here, half the roads had so many trees around them that he was nearly claustrophobic. Maybe it will all look better in the sunlight. He had taken the red eye in.

 _Tywin better appreciate this, by the gods to drag me to this place! Who cares that the_ little _monster was dead? They should be throwing a party not a funeral! They should give the girl who did it a million dollars and set her up somewhere far away. At least shake her fucking hand before a quick execution._

The mansion loomed over him and he gasped. It wasn't a mansion nor was it anything like the high rise he lives in. It was right out of some Gothic novel, like a fortress. Kevan got out and straightened his suit while his men got his bags. He looked at the piles of stones that were trying to make a dwelling and sighed. "Again, my apologies for this minor detour from our normal work. As distasteful as these people are, they are still family. Family is important."

His men nodded with true feeling and understanding.

The one carrying Kevan's luggage had been allowed to take months off while his child was sick. In fact, Kevan had paid for a surgery that saved his daughter's life. The one that drove and is now watching for anyone threatening his boss, his father has Alzheimer disease. Kevan gave all the time off needed and paid for the best private nursing home for his father.

The third man that was carrying Kevan's lap top and carry on bags, he has a son with autism. Kevan got the boy the best doctors, the best therapies and a private school that buses him everyday. He never disciplines his employees when days are missed or they suddenly need to leave. Not when it has to do with their family.

These three men would give their lives for this man and were prepared to kill anyone in this stone castle that threatened their boss.

 

Ramsay coughed blood and tried to crawl to his boy. He died in the arms of the skinny dead boy he promised to protect.

Ned was sobbing out loud like a fucking pansy and couldn't help it. The pain didn't matter, the blood pouring out of him didn't matter. He was squirming, now crawling to reach his son. Robb was against the wall, his legs splayed, head cocked to the left.\

"Robb? Son? Daddy's coming, it's alright, I'll fix it. I always tell you and I always do, right? Robb, please?"    

Robb stared at his father, his eyes starting to get glassy. Blood bubbled in his mouth as if he were trying to say something. Ned reached him and extended his hand to touch Robb's cheek.

"Please, I love you, everything I've done I did because I wanted the best for the son I loved. Even after what you did today...I love you, son."

Ned looked for any sign of love, forgiveness but received no emotion. Instead he heard a gunshot and then he fell backwards. He was gut shot and he looked up to see Robb go limp, gone. 

Ned heard the police and more coming and started to laugh.

 

As the Barracks windows filled with sunshine, it found two pets working diligently while three men yawned and stretched. It was a day off for all and they intended to take advantage of it. Instead of getting up at four they had gotten up at nine. Even the pets got to benefit. Instead of getting up for chores at three in the morning, they got to sleep until five.

Polivar said for them to set up the grill and picnic table outside. After they cleaned and decorated the yard as specified by each of them. Along with their regular routine being done of course. Piggy and Jeyne skipped their breakfast in order to have the extra time to work. In between their regular chores they raced outside to set things up. Jeyne frantically raked and swept the backyard while Piggy prepped for three separate breakfasts. 

Dusten came down first into the fume filled kitchen. It was Clorox from a bucket sitting on the floor.

"Piggy, what the fuck? Huh? How can I fucking eat while you are poisoning me?" Piggy babbled apologies as he lifted the bucket and brought it out to the porch. Dusten just shook his head and tried to think how life doesn't suck. Jeyne brought his food silently then his coffee.

He leaned back and shivered as always, then nodded his thanks. He always did because if she went nuts and on a killing spree she might remember he was nice to her. The girl always nodded back and moved on. This time she moved right on out the back door and that was perfectly fine by him. Dusten moved his chair and plate a little and watched them while he ate.

It was amusing to watch them struggle with getting the wooden picnic table and benches out of the shed and onto the yard. Then the two sweaty, out of breath slaves ran back inside.

Jeyne dropped down to her hands and knees so hard that Dusten winced. Good thing she wears those fucking pads. Piggy ran to take the eggs off the burner and put on the home fries, turn the bacon. Jeyne crawled into the pantry and returned with a scrub brush. She headed to the porch where the cleaning bucket was and began to scrub the porch.

Polivar appeared in the kitchen. Yawning and wearing his Sponge Bob pajama bottoms and a Walking Dead t shirt, he slumped into a chair. Magically, Piggy finished and produced a piping hot perfect breakfast. Dusten stared harder and shook his head. "Get me more coffee, robot boy."

Snorting, Polivar spoke around a mouthful of home fries and egg. "You are just sore because you fucked up. Francis fucked up through fucking..now you? At least yours didn't have to be by force? How could you let yourself be led by a fine aged pussy? "

Piggy silently made Dusten his coffee perfectly and carefully set it down near him. Dusten watched warily as Piggy went back outside. As if by silent signal, Jeyne came back and went out the door. They began to clean the porch then the stairs.

"No, I am telling you. They never even look at a clock or for a sound. They just always know? It's creepy, man! And don't forget what the girl did!" The slaves returned quickly and Piggy went back to his stove to cook a third round of food.

Jeyne started to set a third place then went to help Piggy by putting the dirty dishes into the dishwasher. "See what I mean?" Polivar shook his head. "You are fucking crazy, man. And Gregor is going to fucking kill you. Have you thought of which one of us you want to write your eulogy?" Polivar smiled as he slurped his coffee.

Gloomily, Dusten muttered, "Gregor almost killed me last night. He told me the only reason I don't have all my bones broken was because my father is here today."

Polivar stared and then started to laugh. "Oh my god, you are just SO fucked! Gregor, Tywin and your fucking father! They will slaughter you, oh gods, they will have to take numbers!" Jeyne appeared to take the coffee cup she had set out and pour coffee.

Raff appeared quietly in the kitchen, Jeyne was kneeling gracefully at the table, putting his coffee on the table for him. After Raff sat, Jeyne crawled over to the counter, stood, picked up the food that Piggy has smoothly put on the plate. She walked without any sound with the plate.

When she reached Raff, Jeyne knelt and put the plate carefully in front of Raff. She knelt with her head down, it was obvious it was some sort of plea or question. "You may continue helping Piggy with the yard and party." Raff said quietly with a pat to her head. The girl crawled quickly out the door and continued scrubbing the last porch step.

Dusten took a bite of his eggs and they were cold now. He ate them anyway but kept an eye wary. Raff gave Dusten such a disappointed look and slow shake of his head that he turned red and he ate his eggs faster.

Catelyn's body was stiff and white when a maid discovered her in the bright cheery sunlight of the day.


	70. Wanting To Look Away And Not Doing It

Gregor's house was being worked on as well as the Lannister's estate. The sounds of saws and hammers were loud and maddening.

 

The Stark house was filled with chilling silence.  The little maid finished her scream over the corpse, ran from the room then recalled her job. Skidding to a halt, hands shaking she called Petyr. Always in an emergency, call him first. He gave her instructions to quietly go about her duties until his clean up crew arrived. She let them in and when they left she did too. In a body bag similar to Cat's.

 

Varys smiled at the pale but determined boy. "You don't have to tell me anything you see at all. I'm not going to pressure you. You know the rules, you give me whispers, I give you all of this. If you cannot bring yourself to talk of something you saw, come in and mull it over. I'll send for you in a few hours and see how you feel then? Fair?"

The boy does this every time, has for years. As a boy he would go through the door to the left and join a world of chaos and fun. Pirate ships to climb, ropes to swing with over a pool. Slides, swings sets that were elaborate if not safe.  There was a zip-line and there was a merry go round that went fast or slow upon request. There were accidents, but they were never discussed for fear of disappearing too.

When Tommen became a teen he was introduced a world of gaming madness. Huge screens, leather gaming chairs and his gaming selections gave most boys a moment of tears. Other rooms were around but Tommen was not adventurous enough to see them. Tommen would play games, relax, have a frosty from the machine, get something from the free snack bar.

If Varys waits, the boy will slink out and mutter to him in private what he witnessed or heard. Not this time apparently. For the first time, Tommen stood where he was.

Tommen nodded. "I have information for you. About Petyr's cleaning crew taking two body bags out of the Stark residence." Varys sucked in his breath and before he could ask, the boy answered. "I told no one, no one saw me, I came straight here. I texted no one and I made no phone calls during that time."

Waving at Tommen, Varys quickly said, "Thank you, Tommen. That was brilliant work and you told me right away. Good lad! You may go in your usual or head into another door. If you stay on the green florescent line in the hallway, you might find other things to enjoy." Varys grinned and winked.

 

Gregor received the expected call while he was getting a pedicure by Waif. "Yes, Sir. I will most certainly pass on that message to Lancel immediately." With glee, Gregor took a thick finger and stabbed his man's stupid head on the screen. The smile on his face was so vindictive, it was nearly a weapon of it's own.

"Hello?"

Gregor's voice was so warm and merry, he could have been Santa telling little Lancel how the magic of love shall help him fix it all.

"Princess! Lancel's daddy is requesting his presence immediately.  Just go right in the front door and I'm sure daddy will be there. That is his tactic, right? You'd come rushing to fix whatever you fucked up but you never got the chance to. He would be right there, in your way, on the doorstep, to veer you and halt you in your tracks. Remember that we are ALL having a moment for Tickler at noon. If you are late I won't wait until your father goes after all. Have a wonderful time seeing daddy!"

Hanging up, Gregor sighed in contentment.

 

Brat was determined not to miss the moment for Tickler, nor the party. Fuck healing, fuck all of it, she doesn't need to be like them, she needs to be them. So she ripped off the bandage that was obscuring her vision. Let her freak fly, that statement really meant something to her now.

In the daylight it was easier to see all the damage. Now she saw it..how her left eye, how the bottom lid looks like its tilting away. She saw how her nose will have a thick bump to it. How the scar will be thick and like a road track across her face.

One sob. That was all she was give herself.

She pulled herself together and then got herself dressed in jeans and a t shirt that Sansa had sent her as a joke. Brat constantly forgets to bring her clothing to the section of the laundry room that belongs to employees.

The shirt is light blue with white clouds. There is a unicorn with a cat riding it. A dolphin is chasing behind them. The dolphin has a half naked viking rider. This rider has laser eyes shooting beams at the unicorn and cat. More noticeably disturbing were the laser nipples shooting beams out of the viking's chest. That would explain the look of discomfort on the man's face.

 _Well, it is a casual day, thank gods._ Brat took a quick selfie of herself with the scar and shirt and sent it to her sister.

A moment later she got her reply. "You always did like to be the odd, shocking one. Of course, your scar isn't any worse than any of theirs. So you had to up the ante with the shirt. Nice work."

Grinning, Brat went into the hallway and waited as Sandor stared at her shirt. He had one fist up to knock on her door, frozen at the horrors of her shirt. "What fresh hell is that?"

He shook his head, putting his arm down and leaning against the wall. "You can't really mean to wear that. Go fucking change. Hey, they are finally accepting you, don't make a joke out of it."

"I am out of clothes. And my sister made this for me. She used work with silk screen and make her own brand of tees. I love this shirt and I love being odd and a bit different. During our free time, I'm going to be me. During work I am no different. Don't worry, I have this."

Sandor sighed and started to walk down the hall. "I think you're a moron." Brat caught up to him and punched his arm. "They will notice the shirt way more than the scar."

Sandor understood that, damn it and he slumped his shoulders. "Yeah, I get it. Just...this party, they can party rough." Snorting, Brat said in a cold voice, "I know exactly how they party, remember? It will be nice to see HotPie again at least. I will leave when you do, alright?"

"Piggy is his new name and he belongs to Polivar, don't forget that. And yeah, we will leave before they start to get stupid, but long enough for them to remember us there in the morning." Sandor grabbed Brat's arm and yanked her towards the servant's cafeteria.

"Let's start with our breakfast. We don't need to be out there until noon. Do they still serve breakfast at ten? I have never slept in, unless I was feverish or badly wounded." Brat laughed at Sandor's excitement and bravely faced the other workers in the cafeteria with her shirt as her debut.

 

Kevan was standing in the doorway of the white marble lobby. He was nearly squinting as the sun turned the room into a merciless glaring hell. Nevertheless, his hands were behind his back and his feet were straight and still. He kept his squint upon the door, only shutting and blinking on occasion. A man of his stood nearby, leaned over slightly. "Would you like my sunglasses, Sir? I have an extra pair with me."

The silver haired, elegantly dressed man gave a slight shake of his head.

"No, thank you. You need to see if there is need to protect me and yourself. I can't imagine what caused someone to punish a room so badly. Maybe they deliberately meant to blind everyone who came into the home as a way to take advantage if need be. I bet my brother heard a story like that and got all wet and heavy breathing over it. So here we are, with me blind as a bat to see my beloved son."

He sighed and his man gave a sympathetic nod. "You would never neglect your fatherly duties to your son just because of some discomfort, Sir." The man assured him wholeheartedly.

Kevan gave the slightest of smile. "Exactly. Still, I will apologize that you made to suffer the indignity of this lobby. A disgrace. This whole place and everyone within in it. Still, they are family. We shall endure."

Dusten stood on Tywin's elegant porch, staring at the wood and stained glass door for ten minutes. He knew, he could feel that his father was right there, just standing, waiting. One of his fucking minion, crazy ass worshipers with him, just begging for a moment where they shoot someone in the head.

He took a deep breath and swung the door open. Kevan blinked rapidly, Dustin tilted his head. "Dad, you okay? Did you get something in your eyes?" Kevan gave it up and started to walk out to the porch.

"Tywin blinded me with his lobby, son. This is not the greeting I intended for you. Please, wait a moment until my eyes adjust." Clutching the wooden post, Kevan let his eyes adjust. He was irritated that his greeting was ruined but he was not one to bemoan a lost plan.

Standing straight again, causing the looming man to move back. Dusten was sitting on the railing, just watching passively. He was feeling a little braver now. Kevan cleared his throat and approached his son.

Lancel got down off the railing and stood ready to greet his father. It has been many years since they have hugged and Lancel would rather eat shit than hug his dad. Luckily, his father seemed to feel the same way.

"You have grown some. And you are even more handsome somehow. And that is how you got yourself into trouble again isn't it? The very thing that got you into trouble at home, you are doing here? Don't you see that you have a problem? I can help you, just let me take you home. I found a place that has people that can help with these things. They have great results, Lancel."

Kevan stepped forward as Dusten stepped back, shaking his head. "No, I am fine right here. I'll take my punishment and work harder, stay focused this time."

"While I am here to help my brother with his latest fiasco, you think about my helping you, Lancel. You let a woman commit murder. You were consorting with your own cousin! Did Cersei seduce you? Was that it? Don't keep making this worse, just come home and let your father help you fix it. You are at rock bottom, can't you see that?"

These were words that landed into Dusten like tiny missiles. "My name isn't Lancel, anymore. It is Dusten. And my place is here but thank you for your concern, father. I hope Uncle Tywin hasn't troubled you too much and your matter will be fixed up."

He tried to slide past the sunglasses man to leave. Kevan's eyes followed his son's slow absurd escape. "We shall have lunch tomorrow. I would like us to connect and chat since I am here."

Dusten sighed and looked up at sunglasses man number one. "Uh..if I say I'll meet him for lunch tomorrow, will you get out of my way? You three look like each other, do you know that? Hey, I was thinking, how about I call you guys, Things One, Two and Three so I don't get confused." The man was not amused and his voice was full of indignation and frustrated well restrained rage.

"You should be on your knees, begging, crying in gratitude that your father cares enough to help you. Take his offer before worse happens to you. How you can even joke about this I don't understand."

Staring up solemnly at the disciple of daddy and gave a tiny shrug. "And that is why we shall never be friends. Fine, I will have lunch with you tomorrow, dad. What time do you want me and where?" The man moved back and Kevan gave a tiny nod of approval.

"Two. I have yet to decide where. Simply meet me here at two." Kevan stood up as Dusten nodded then fled back towards the Barracks.

Sighing, Kevan shook his head sadly. "The poor fool doesn't even understand he has a sickness. And that niece of mine, she has always been a succubus, look what she has done. Seduced her own brother, if she is willing to go that far, a cousin is nothing at all to her. I will speak with Cersei. Though I have never struck a woman in my life..she tempts me to it. I hope the support and example I wish to give to my own men will be enough to keep me from it."


	71. Ceremonies Can Be Stressful

The memorial for Tickler was quick. They all stood in a circle with Gregor in the center of it. He held a bottle of Tickler's favorite whiskey.

"He was one of us. He was loyal, never shirked his duties, always gave his all to his work. No one could torture like him, few of us could learn how to set human traps like he did. And Tickler died fighting to protect us, to do his duty."

Gregor took a swig of the whiskey then poured a bit on the ground. Almost in challenge, he handed it to Brat. She managed to swallow the harsh liquid and not cough, just barely. Sandor gave a smirk as she poured a little on the ground and handed him the bottle. When each person has taken a sip and the drink was poured, it was all over.

Brat has never been to a service so short in her life and was instantly cheered at this practice.

Gregor glared at each of them and then drawled out, "I don't want to see any of you for any reason until tomorrow morning. Enjoy your party and don't attract unwanted attention with your celebrations. If you attract unwanted attention, I will be forced to give each of you a great deal of unwanted attention."

 

Piggy had marinated chicken wings on the grill, along with hamburgers and hotdogs. Jeyne was frantically trying to get potato salad, macaroni salad and garden salad on the picnic table. Games still had to be found and they don't have long before they will come out of the house. Turning the meats and saying a quick prayer, Piggy raced to the shack with Jeyne.

They dove into the pile as if they were dumpster divers on bath salts. Jeyne came up with a cry of triumph, waving the box with a picture of a dart board. With a harrumph and a pout, Piggy renewed his search. Nervously, his friend began to tap his shoulder. "Yes, I know we don't have much time left. But I swear I saw that game with a post and rings in here when I got out the old mower."

Sniffing deeply, Jeyne gave a glare to Piggy. She put the box down to try and crawl to the grill before the food burned. Jeyne stood only when she reached the grill, but Piggy was already there, holding the damned game. "Hey, you should be finishing the coolers, don't you think? Then can you set up the game I found?" Piggy laughed as Jeyne gave him an obscene gesture along with a smirk.

Jeyne finished adding ice and beer to the coolers and made sure the table was ready with paper plates, napkins, utensils, condiments. Then she grabbed the box and went to find a good tree. Tilting her head, she studied something then put the box down. Going back into the shed, Jeyne  remembers some cork-board. It was a very big piece and nearly took up the whole back of the shed.  

Piggy came running to help her when she struggled with it. "We don't have much time left, what are you doing?" He hissed as Jeyne just calmly tried to carry her side and steer Piggy. Jeyne nailed the cork-board between two trees then hung the dartboard in the center of it. Taking one of the darts, Jeyne deliberately threw it wide. It landed in the cork instead of god knows where in the grass or a tree. Piggy grinned. "Ah ha...yeah saves us a lot of fetching. Nice thinking."

 They managed to set up the ring toss just before everyone would be coming into the yard. Piggy was melting cheese on some burgers while Jeyne added a second cooler of water bottles and soda. She expects it will be mostly full when this party ends. Brat and Sandor entered the yard and it was too much for Jeyne.

Her world was getting smaller by the day. It was here, it was a road to a farm then back. It was going in the car with Master. The same faces she saw every time, even those poor slaves that cringe before her Master and other cruel men. Their faces are beginning to blur now.  

Raff always is there when Jeyne sees new faces. Only that time she saw Sansa but that wasn't something good. Jeyne began to bite her lips, a thing her Master hates for her to do. She crawls fast to the grill where Piggy is. Not that he can protect her, but he was comfort, he was a voice. Just in case, her body starts to tense and try to get ready to attack if need be. To her dismay, the giant and the girl began to walk over.

Then Jeyne peered through her hair at the smiling, scarred girl. _I know you, horse-face. No, that was long ago, that was before Raff. Sleepovers at the Starks and Arya the little brat would ruin it somehow. Ex Lax in the brownies one time. No, that was before Master._ She stayed frozen kneeling next to Piggy.

Arya smiled at Piggy who grinned back. "Hey! Sorry I couldn't come and visit before this! I wasn't allowed to come to the Barracks until I proved myself to them. "It's alright. Judging by your face, you paid your dues in full, huh? What is your new name?" Piggy waited with a grin, he knew it would be bad. "Mine is Piggy." He prompted with a silly grin.

Squirming for a second, she mumbled, "Brat."

The pile of black hair next to Piggy suddenly giggled as Piggy laughed.

Smiling down, Brat said softly, "Jeyne, right? Well, I am not a horse face anymore, guess you'll have to find a new name for me." Jeyne couldn't answer that, couldn't apologize for being mean. Turning pale, Brat asked Piggy, "Did..did Raff cut out her tongue?" Piggy shuddered. "Gods, no! Though he did stitch her mouth shut for a day or two at first. Jeyne isn't allowed to talk without permission."

Piggy had a new audience to complain to and he was dedicated to his unwilling audience. Sandor stared flatly at him while Jeyne crawled to the cooler. Brat glared up at Sandor who sighed and walked over to grab two cold beers from the stunned girl. "I'll get them, thanks. We don't need services. Go scare Dusten or rest while you can."

Sandor grumbled as he sat at the picnic table. He was half listening to Piggy list his towering list of chores. Brat whined about being forced into marriage. Piggy told of extreme abuse and Brat nearly boasted about how she wounded and tried to murder her brother and husband. The boy showed scars and Brat pointed to her face. Piggy was fully enjoying his conversation and Jeyne had no idea what she should do now.

She isn't serving, Jeyne isn't supposed to be resting, she was to be serving. Jeyne slowly started to slink towards the back door, hoping Brat won't see her crawling. _Oh, these bad thoughts, they will hurt me. Master will hurt me. Please no, stop thinking this way, if she sees you crawl who gives a fuck?_

Piggy saw her and pointed a spatula. "No! Don't go in there or they'll know others are here. I won't get a chance to talk to Brat again." "That is crazy. I can ask Polivar if I can chat with you." Brat commented lightly, stealing a piece of cheese from the prep table.  Jeyne shook her head at that and slowly crept forward to join the conversation.

Piggy was thrilled to see it but pretended she had been there the whole time. "Jeyne and I both agree on this. You cannot ask Polivar to hang out with your buddy, his slave. Not when you just earned their respect and at great cost to yourself. We have right now and you can come by the Barracks anytime. So we can find times to chat." Jeyne was nodding. 

"I want to help you, both of you. I really do. I am your friend." Brat said but she noticed Piggy and Jeyne seem to share a look. "You are my friend. But I am a slave. And you are one of them. Our Masters are your comrades. It makes it a bit awkward." Piggy said as he began to give Jeyne plates of chicken wings to put on the picnic table.

Shrugging, Brat replied, "It doesn't have to be. And even if it is, we can deal with it. I kind of need it to keep...empathy. And you need to complain to someone other than Jeyne. No wonder the poor girl looks so crazy..she has to listen to you all the time." Piggy laughed and got a plate of hot dogs ready for Jeyne to take.

The girl was crawling back and had just gotten to her feet when Brat took the plate. "I'm sick of watching you crawl. How about you take a small break while I take this to the table?" Jeyne started to tremble hard and shake her head wildly, her hands seem to endlessly crawl across her skin. Brat never liked Jeyne as Sansa's friend or Robb's girlfriend. But she pities this broken thing.

Piggy tried to take the plate from her. "No! You can't do that. Do you want her to get in trouble? Would you like to see Raff punish her right here in front of you? And I will get in trouble too. Remember the fucking quarry party? Don't help us, please." Brat sighed but held the plate. As luck would have it the two clambering down the porch steps were Polivar and Raff.

With a charming smile and warm eyes, Raff's voice like silk, like a lovely thing you would wrap around you. With a terrible soft moan, Jeyne tried to wrench the plate from Brat. _Fucking Two Face, Fucking Scar Face, I will find a name and give me the fucking plate, please, oh god I am standing, not moving, not working and I can see on his face it's_ there _already._

Jeyne gave up as Raff started to walk over along with Polivar. She lowered her head and went to all fours, starting to sob in fear and defeat. _I try so hard, so fucking hard to obey, it isn't fair, it isn't fair I am going to hurt and I didn't do anything, oh please Master, I really did try!  
_

When Raff approached Brat watched in disgust as Jeyne began to kiss his boots. It was obvious she was imploring, begging. His snapped his fingers and Jeyne knelt up before him. Raff grabbed the small chin and leaned down, very close.

"Look at me. Good girl. I saw my Jeynie standing, doing nothing. Were you given orders to serve guests and help Piggy set everything up? Yes, you were. Is that what I saw you doing when I came out? No. I am disappointed, sweetheart. You are usually so well behaved. The best example short of Waif that any Master could show off. We can discuss what happened tonight later on."

Even as Raff had a hand on Jeyne's chin, somehow the girl seemed to get smaller as she shook and sobbed. 

Brat shook her head. "No, Raff, it was my fault. I was being an asshole and I wouldn't let her put the plate on the table. Sorry, dude..it's just it was kind of funny to watch her reaction. She was like a little nervous lap dog!" Brat channeled Sansa's acting skills. She had a smirk on her face and she gave a cruel, cutting laugh.

"Like a little demented fucking hair ball, she would keep gesturing like she was praying and making these tiny sounds. She kept trying to get the plate but she was scared, too much of a coward to actually pull it from me."

Brat stared at Raff who looked at her, over at Piggy, then finally back down at Jeyne. "Is this the truth, little girl? Hmm? Was the scary scarred monster being a bully to you?" He stroked her lips, her nose and Jeyne's cheekbones. "Permission to speak, Jeyne."

With large eyes full of fear and worship, perhaps even a form of twisted affection that terrifies her, Jeyne looked into her Master's eyes. How can someone so handsome, so charming be such a terrifying force?

"Master, I swear I tried! She wouldn't let me take the plate. I tried and tried but she wouldn't let me take the plate! I begged with my hands and she laughed! Piggy tried to help me, he tried to tell Brat to give me the plate! Please, forgive me Master! I couldn't get the plate but I swear I tried!"

Raff's features hardened slightly but this seemed to actually calm the girl down some.

"Hush now. Calm yourself. Good girl." He petted the girl's head, stroking her hair until the girl had stopped sobbing. Jeyne leaned into her Master's touch and tried very hard to compose herself. "There, much better. It looks like Brat might be challenging Polivar's status as worse bully. Poor little pet was the first to get it. Go get the plate and put it on the table. No punishment for good girls."

Brat deliberately gagged as the relieved and grateful girl began to kiss and lick Raff's hands while he smirked indulgently. "Enough Jeyne. I accept your gratitude. The plate, Jeyne. Go." 

Polivar slammed between Piggy and Brat, with a shiteating grin. Piggy nearly fell into the grill and Brat managed to stay on her feet but was moved a foot back. "Hope your conversation isn't ruined by our party, guys. So watcha talking about? I bet what you are NOT talking about is getting a bunch of hungry people fed."

Polivar grabbed a fistful of Piggy's hair and yanked hard.

Piggy cried out and starting shaking, his hands curled on his chest. "Sorry, Master! I was wrong, please, I'll finish cooking right now." Polivar tilted his head and looked over at Brat with sharp amusement. "See, this is proper bullying, with her you get no response, it's boring really."

He continued speaking as if wasn't holding Piggy up to his tiptoes by the roots of his hair. "Funny thing. Most folks would start on Piggy first. Might have lost some weight, but he is still chubby, hair all wild and that whiny voice. Instead you go for the one that looks freaky?"

Brat pushed herself into Polivar, as if Piggy wasn't suffering, as if Jeyne and Piggy's pain tonight would be her fault if she failed. "Do I have to follow your methods on bullying? Gregor told me I was a sadist. I really am trying to embrace that part of me. Not like Tickler though, no...I like to fuck with minds, make someone snap. He said it will be great in combat situations. Want to see an example, asshole?"

Raff was standing watching the exchange as Jeyne put the plate on the table. Then threw herself against Raff's leg, clinging like a monkey. She buried her face against his leg and tried to stop panting. Sighing, Raff sat down and pulled the girl into his lap. He pulled her head against his chest.

"Noooo. Shh, my good girl isn't going to cry or panic. I won't punish you. No punishments for being bullied, silly girl. Why are you so clingy tonight?" He cooed into her hair and rubbed his hand on the slight back. She really was like a small kitten, all curled into a ball and he chuckled.

Dusten wandered out and was filled on what was happening by Sandor. The large man was intent on his chicken. He took a huge amount of it and he is focused on his meal. He spoke in between large bites and Dusten got himself a beer and a hotdog. "Hey, here is an idea! Let's find out how much of a bully that Brat is then. A contest after we all eat and hang for a bit. A contest between the two bullies of our group." 


	72. Bullies

Dusten got one bite of the hot dog and then he heard a beep. He looked at his phone and groaned. "Shit! I forgot I have to have lunch with my father. Listen, don't start the bully contest without me! I'll be back in like a half hour. I gotta change fast."

Brat watched him run into the house and commented, "How does he think he will be home from lunch in a half an hour?"

Smirking, Polivar nodded. "Oh, he will be back in thirty minutes or so. Lancel and daddy have difficulties. They never make it through a full meal together. His dad thinks Dusten is a sex addict and he keeps trying to get him into these cures and camps and shit."

Polivar kicked out and connected hard into Piggy's thigh. "Where the fuck is my potato salad? I told you I wanted potato salad on my plate."

Rubbing his thigh, Piggy muttered, "You ate the portion I put on your plate." Leaning forward as if to stand up, one hand already on his belt, Polivar cocked his head. "What did you say, Piggy?"

The boy cringed low and timidly took the plate. "I said I'm sorry I forgot to put potato salad on your plate, Master. I will get you some right now." Polivar sat back down and Piggy hurried to fill half the plate with potato salad then put the plate in front of him.

Brat watched as Jeyne filled Raff's plate gracefully without hesitation.

Raff never said what he wanted, he just looked at it and somehow the girl knew. It was a bit creepy and Brat desperately wanted to put Jeyne's hair in a ponytail. Jeyne knelt next to her Master's side quietly, unless he wished for something.

Every now and then, he would offer a small piece of his meal to her. She would timidly eat from Raff's hand. Piggy continually ran about bringing things to the table, taking empty things away and getting beer for everyone.

Dusten came flying out wearing dress pants, a button down shirt, loafers and his hair was slicked back. "Oh gawds, here comes Lancel!" Hollered Polivar, making the tired Piggy jump and almost drop his spatula.

"Don't fucking call me that! Asshole! I hear that from my father enough, thanks." Dusten snarled as he ran off towards the Lannister house.

"Good luck to him." Raff raised his beer then took the last swallow. As he set it down, Jeyne grabbed it, threw it in the recycle bin and bring a new cold beer. She went back to kneeling as if she never moved.

After everyone was done eating, Raff tilted his head towards Jeyne. "Go eat with Piggy, then help him clean up. Good girl, go on." Jeyne went lower, then crawled away after Piggy.

They got the last pieces of meat no one wanted and a good amount of garden salad that wilted in the heat. A few charred wings, a hot dog that was extra crispy and a cold cheese burger. Jeyne took the cheeseburger and one of the wings. Piggy took the rest. They sat on the porch steps, hunched together as they ate. Whispering, Piggy deliberately didn't look at Jeyne, but at his food.

"They are going to get drunk. And it will get bad for us. They are going to see if Brat can out-bully Polivar. We are fucked. So fucked." Piggy started to gnaw on a chicken wing. He saw the small nod of agreement as Jeyne continued to eat her burger in small bites. Slowly, they ate and worried. 

 

Kevan was already sitting at the table on the patio, looking directly at his watch when Dusten skidded up. "You are ten minutes late, please sit down." A salad, a glass of water and a tuna sandwich awaited Dusten as he sat down. "Sorry about that. Thanks for inviting me to lunch." Dusten put his napkin in his lap and started to poke at his salad. His father cleared his throat and began to eat his own salad.

"So how have you been, son?" "Fine. How have you been, dad?"

The conversation remained civil for a good solid five minutes.

"You cannot see you are ill but you are. Don't you remember even as a child you were always touching yourself. And now look at how far down the hole you have gone!" Kevan threw his hands up as Dusten stood up and stiffly spoke.

"I am never going to leave this company for any reason. I do not have a sex addiction problem. You have some form of Munchhausen Syndrome or something. Get therapy, dad. I need to go. In case you didn't hear, we have the day off because one of my comrades died. So if you don't mind, I'd like to go be with my family to grieve."

Kevan watched as his son stormed away. Slowly, he said to his men, "I may have to extend my stay by a few days, gentlemen."

 

Gregor was grateful to the gods that he still had his large special ordered tub. He floated in the steamy water and foamy bubbles were nearly all he could see. He shut his eyes. The plastic pillow cradled his neck as Waif rubbed lotion into his scalp.

The window was open to let the fresh breeze come in. Gregor deliberately left his toes out of the hot water because he loved the cool zing it brought.

The next breeze was stronger and began to explain that he had big balls, she has big balls. Gregor's eyes popped open.

"Waif, get my cell phone. Now, text this to all of them. Turn it down or I'll stick my hand up your ass and have a puppet show."

Angling the cell phone so Gregor could watch her, Waif quickly texted in a group text. Sighing, he laid his head back down and shut his eyes. He felt small hands working quickly along his scalp and he poked his toes back out seeking the breeze. 

 

Piggy and Jeyne had just finished throwing away another bag of trash and the yard was pristine when every person they knew went crazy. The slaves watched slack jawed as suddenly all of them started running in a stampede for the new speaker stolen from Tickler's possessions. 

Dusten came running in the gate entrance, yelling, "Turn off the fucking-Oh!" He bent down trying to catch his breath while the others destroyed the machine. Raff grabbed his cell phone and shut it off before the others could destroy it. They did lunge forward and he shrieked at them. "I shut it off! Not my fault! It was Tickler's fucking speaker and I could have sold that rather than sharing it all with you!"

He found himself in the dirt and he yanked the first leg he could get that was kicking him. Polivar went down laughing. "Oh gods...did you see what he fucking wrote? He would fucking do exactly that too! Oh my gods, would he like make a stage and curtains? Grab us two by two for a performance? Would Waif, Piggy and Jeyne be the audience?" Raff started laughing too hard to fight and rolled away. The others were chuckling too, but a bit nervously.

Quickly Piggy and Jeyne lowered their heads and pretended to sweep the yard again. This will bear much discussion and laughter later, but it has to be suppressed. This was already a dangerous time for them and here was Dusten. They will have their bully contest and no matter who wins, Jeyne and Piggy lose. 

After the laughter and bravado started to come back, after a few more beers, they will remember. And the pets were right about that.

"Okay...now wait a second. Something isn't fair. Ain't right." Polivar said, pointing at Jeyne. She was kneeling next to Raff's chair with her head on his thigh. Even when Polivar pointed at her, Jeyne didn't react. Dusten instantly screeched, "See? My point, fucking folks...MY POINT! No reaction! Does anyone check her pulse?"

They all instantly pounced. Raff invited Dusten to come over and take her pulse. Sandor confessed that he once saw her pass a mirror and have no reflection. Brat offered to do an exorcism and Polivar sneered.

"No, really, listen! Raff. Listen. Not to the fuck heads...to me. So. We all gave up our names, right? And I made Piggy give up his name. I bet Waif isn't her real name either." Dusten yelled, "Gregor girl is Legion! That one..that one needs an exorcism!"

Another round of laughter and jeering before Polivar could be heard again. "No! Really, listen! Everyone, no matter how high or low here lose their names. So why didn't you? Huh? Cause I think it's a spell....see I think she is a witch just like Dusten dreams about at night. The bad dreams with the pee pee sheets in the morning."

  Polivar burst into drunken laughter and held his head. Raff shrugged, looking down at the black hair. "You know, I just sort of liked the name. Yeah, guess I should change it."

"Maybe that is what made her kill Damon! She still has a past link cause of her name." Brat offered with a vicious smirk towards Raff. He glared back then smoothly responded while petting Jeyne's head. "She told me why she killed him. He was forcing her to break her rules."

Dusten shuddered and Brat swallowed down some beer and defeat.

Polivar gave a cruel grin and said, "Hey, do you guys remember when we made Dusten watch the Ring with us? Brat, you would have loved it. So we put the movie into the VHS..uh...it's what we had before DVD's, history shit.." He waved his hand to dismiss it and then found his train of thought.

"So we put in the movie and the girl in it..oh you've seen it? Good, then you know the black hair all in the face, girl crawling, contorting, coming to kill you.." Dusten threw an empty beer bottle at him and missed.

Laughter abounds as Raff tries to finish his story.

"So...we DARED him to watch it and so he had to. Dusten's face...I never saw such terror and we had to give him a pillow because he kept clinging to us. When the girl climbed out of the well and started to come out of the screen, oh my god! Dusten screamed like a little girl and pissed his pants. He ran out of the room, we honestly couldn't stop him, he was crazed with fear! We kept forcing him to see clips of that and that chick from the Grudge too!"

Brat laughed as hard as they did. Raff grinned and said, "Maybe we should call her Samara?" Dusten snarled out, "Call her Wail. It's the only sound we ever hear from her." Polivar cocked his head and stroked his chin as if pondering mysteries. "Ghost? Fangs? KillBill? Reagan? Carrie? Damien? What would you prefer, sweet Lancel?" He fluttered his eyes at the angry embarrassed man.

Raff looked down at Jeyne and stroked her hair. "We shall go with Samara. Look up. You are not Jeyne anymore. You are Samara. Do not forget. It is a rule. Speak and tell me who you are." Staring into Raff's eyes, Jeyne softly responded as her mind tried to process this new big information. "My name is Samara, Master." Raff pet her head. "Good girl."

With a growl, Dusten leaned forward. "You are being an asshole. Don't really fucking name her that. Why are you being a fucking dick?"

Sandor drawled out, "Wasn't there a bully contest or some shit?"

He gave Brat a look that clearly said, you brought this on yourself. She hated those looks the most. It was that fucking look that made her go along with it in the first place.

Polivar grinned. "Yep. That's right. And I have the best fucking idea..." He stood up and called out, "Piggy! Stop hiding and get your ass over here!" He heard a small crash and then a heavy stomping coming closer. It brought a joy to his face that made Brat shudder inwardly. This was shit she had always defended.

"Where you hiding in the fucking trash, you moron, huh?" Polivar slapped Piggy in the shoulder, head and face while shaking him. "What did you fucking say?" Piggy cried out, "I wasn't hiding, I was throwing out more-"

Polivar made a fist and hit Piggy in the stomach, pulling it at the last second. "Now, I couldn't really hear you. I want you to say it again, loud and clear this time." Coughing and wheezing, Piggy replied, "I am sorry for hiding in the trash, Master. I was being a moron."

Tears slid down Piggy's cheeks and he lowered his eyes as he stood still. "I accept your apology." Polivar stood over Piggy, loomed over him and Piggy shrank, a tiny whine escaping his lips. "Go to the dartboard and remove it. Right the fuck now." Piggy eased his way timidly away from Polivar and then ran for the dartboard. Rolling her eyes, Brat said, "Sure if we beat on them, they will cry and obey. Both of us can do that.."

With a cruel look in his eyes, Polivar shook his head. "Oh no, Brat...no, this isn't the game yet at all. This is just me playing an everyday game with Piggy. What I am about to do, that will be the contest between us. And this is something that we both always tie at, so I'm curious to see if that remains the same tonight."

He turned to look at Piggy who was holding the dartboard but staying hidden near another shadow. "Put the dartboard down and stand against the cork board. Legs and arms out."

Piggy's eyes went wide and his jaw dropped. "Master..don't throw darts at me, please!" Polivar started to walk towards him and Piggy ran to stand spread against the cork board.

Polivar stood there and punched his fists into the cork-board on either side of Piggy's head. The boy flinched and sobbed, eyes finally looking up with utter surrender.

"Sorry, I'm sorry, please!" Piggy babbled, waiting for the pain. Polivar stuck his face in Piggy's. "You will stand here until I say you can move. If you so much as twitch, I will deliberately hit you." Polivar waited for the tearful, "Yes Master" and then he grabbed the darts. He turned to grin at Brat. "We are both really good at darts, mainly when drunk. So....a real bully wouldn't give a fuck that it's an actual person." 

Sandor groaned and shoved his stupid charge forward. Maybe she only really does learn if the lesson comes hard. Brat narrowed her eyes at Polivar and put out her hands for a dart. He smiled.

"Ladies, first. Just remember one rule. Do. Not. Hit. My. Piggy." Polivar handed her a dart and moved aside. Brat tried to relax, hell, when they played with bows and arrows a few years back, she shot at him all the time. With confidence, she tossed the dart.

Piggy cried out but he did not move as the dart landed near his left shoulder. Raff and Sandor clapped while Polivar frowned. He took the dart and then studied his target. Piggy shut his eyes tightly and tried to pretend he didn't exist. A thunk came close to his right side and he sobbed in relief. Brat took another turn and a dart landed close to his head.

Piggy couldn't help himself, he knows better but he can't help it. "Master! Please! I can't, I can't, please anything else? Please?" Polivar grabbed a dart and threw it lightly. It landed in Piggy's hand and he screamed. "Sorry! Please, I'm sorry, take it out, please, Master!"

Brat grinned and yelled, "Hey, he hit him! I win by default."

Polivar growled as he pulled the dart from Piggy's hand then slapped the boy's wet face. "I warned you what would happen, didn't I? Little fucker, you need to LISTEN! Now stay the FUCK still or so help me, the next one will need Qyburn's attention." Piggy moaned and nodded, leaning against the cork-board, his hand throbbing.

Polivar stomped over to lean over the scarred girl. "Not fair. I was disciplining him. I meant to hit him. I told him I would if he begged or tried to move. One last shot each."  Brat looked up at him without fear and grinned so her scar twists gruesomely. Still red and wet healing flesh with cruel slashes of black through it. "Fine. One shot each." 

He took his shot first, carefully staring at the shaking, terrified boy. The dart landed right next to Piggy's left ear and the boy lost control of his bladder. "Piggy, dammit! Now see, a real bully can make a victim piss themselves with fear." He joked as he handed the last dart to Brat. Her face was narrowed with intense concentration. Brat very carefully judged and the let loose her dart.

The men all screamed as one, high pitched and in true cringing horror.

Polivar had clutched his shaved head and dropped to his knees, his eyes scanning to be sure. Dusten had grabbed onto Sandor who was grabbing him back, muttering, "Oh fuck, fuck, that was uncalled for, fuck me that wasn't funny." Raff was clutching Samara like she was a teddy bear.

Piggy's eyes were hollow, his skin was fish belly white and his mouth open in a frozen scream. A dart nestled up against his testicles until his eyes rolled back and he fell face forward.

Brat smirked at them all and cheerfully announced, "A real bully can make her victim faint with fear. I win."

 

Gregor was half dozing as Waif made sure he was comfortable in the seaweed wrap then she got the bowl of ingredients to put a face mask on him. The breeze carried a high pitched group of screaming men to him. His eyes popped open.


	73. When The Hammer Comes Down

Sansa wore a pretty pink dress that had been banned to her closet by Joff. Her hair was pulled into a thick braid and her smile was guarded but sincere. Tyrion had taken her for breakfast then offered to show her the Lannister mansion.

"Well, I mean you have been it of course, but it is all redone. My wing was burnt so while repairs are happening, I am using a currently empty wing. So anything I had that survived went there. I have to go today and purchase some new items. I was hoping maybe you would come with me? Because once we marry, that is where we will live. So, uh, I guess you would like some say in the decorating?"

Tyrion looked so hopeful and had such sad dog eyes that Sansa laughed.

"That's fine. We can look at the wing, get measurements and then shop. But doesn't your father just call Varys or Petyr for those things?" Sansa asked as Tyrion grimaced. "My father does. My sister does as well. I do not, I like to get out and find my things myself. Of course if you would like to ask Varys or Petyr, you can. But I will argue with whomever it is vehemently, I promise you."

Tyrion grinned when Sansa laughed a second time. "No, I like to shop too. I'm afraid as much as Joff tried to beat the lady out of me, I still urged and longed to shop."

Tyrion waited until Bronn let him and Sansa out of the car. "I hope you don't mind Podrick and Bronn, they are sort of used to the bachelor life, as am I." "I like them, I am more afraid of living here with your father to be honest." Sansa confessed as they headed into the mansion, briefly blinded by the lobby.

Both of them managed to find their way through the room to a corridor that was soothingly dark after the marble nightmare prism. They stopped to let their eyes adjust.

"You know, I am very clever. And I believe that you are very clever too. I believe that Joff hurt you badly and that you truly feared to disobey him. But I don't think you were any less clever while you feared Joff. So I would like us to drop the tiresome dance. Let us be honest with our cleverness. Then the dance becomes fun." Tyrion looked up into Sansa's startled eyes as Podrick and Bronn came closer.   

 

Gregor quickly donned his terry cloth sweatsuit and quickly tried to decide which item to bring. "Master? May I please make a suggestion?" He turned and saw Waif kneeling and holding a wooden staff up. Grinning, he took it and gave her a quick pat to her cheek. "This is perfect." Eyes wide open, a vein in his forehead pulsing in rage, Gregor headed for the Barracks to deliver some beatings. And yet for all his anger and his bulk he moved so silently.

 

Polivar was glaring at Brat. "That was plain cruel. That was beyond...goddamned bitch, if that had struck him!" He grabbed Piggy who was awake and sobbing loudly. "Alright, game is over, boy. Look, you are fine, not even scratched." Piggy was ashamed and tried to yank his shorts back up as soon as Polivar had made sure he was not damaged.

Polivar tousled his boy's hair then shoved a beer in his hand then shoved the boy into a chair. "Here, you did well, you earned this after what she did to you! Never thought she would go for your nuts, Piggy."  

The second Jeyne had been shoved off Raff's lap as he went forward with the others for the bet, she crawled under the table. From the relative safety of it, she watched her poor friend get tormented. It was frustrating to have no way to help him and that was dangerous thinking. She cringed lower and whimpered.

Dusten looked over and Jeyne saw that everyone else was watching Brat do her last shot. He stared at her and Jeyne stared back. Then the shot was made and Dusten had looked away. She was chilled by it but then she was worrying about Piggy.

Brat couldn't understand why they were all glaring at her. "What? I won and I never touched him! I knew I wouldn't hurt him."

Sandor shoved her and got himself another beer. "You don't go for a man's junk unless it is during training or during a job. Even if it is just a slave, it still isn't right!"

Giving them all a look of disgust, Brat stormed towards the cooler to get her own drink. "You are all fucking assholes. I won and you can't handle that, can you?"

Raff shook his head and tried to explain but he was cut off by Dusten. "Did you see what she fucking did? Did you see? She looked right at me, I swear it!" Raff stared at Dusten and yelled, "What the fuck are you talking about?" Dusten screamed back, "THAT THING, THAT SAMARA GIRL, SHE STARED RIGHT AT ME AS SOON AS YOU COULDN'T SEE!"

Raff stared at Dusten for a moment then just punched him. "Shut the fuck up with that shit, Lancel. I'm sick of it right now." Dusten slammed into Raff, screaming, "Don't call me that!  Ah, fuck, my hand!" The two went down and rolled. Jeyne was glad that she was under the table.

Sandor yawned and stood up. "You are all fucking morons. You two need to stop fighting, you all need to stop yelling before Gregor shows up. I am going to bed before that happens."

Snorting, Polivar leaned back in his chair next to Piggy's. He was deliberately crowding him. Polivar wanted to give his boy a small reward for behaving. But he doesn't want Piggy to grow comfortable with sitting in chairs. Putting a hand on Piggy's shoulder to discomfort him, Polivar tossed out a last instantly regrettable statement.

"Gregor isn't going to come down if he hasn't already. If this had been before Waif, he wouldn't have texted, he would have just come to fuck us up. That little thing and his spa treatments are keeping our Gregor sweet and loving towards his children!"   

The gate door exploded and a staff came down to separate and beat Raff and Dusten. As soon as those two were bleeding and crying, Gregor looked up at the frozen group.

With a fierce smile Gregor spoke in a dementedly cheerful tone as he used the staff to gesture.

"Oh my wayward little chicks! Did you think a spa treatment and a perfect little slave would keep me from giving you my FULL attention if you needed it? First the music and now the screams? Think of me as your Oprah, because you won a beating!" He pointed at Brat. "You have won a beating" He pointed the staff at Sandor. Then he flourished the staff to include them all. "EVERYONE WINS A BEATING!"

Gregor pointed the staff at Piggy in the chair and then pointed it at Samara. "Get." He swept the staff towards the house and the slaves couldn't have ever moved faster.

 

Once inside Samara and Piggy flew to the living room and then behind the staircase, a favorite hiding place. They held each other and both burst into laughter at the same time.

Tears came, but the laughter wouldn't stop, the terrifying mirth was too much. After a moment of this, they actually began to hear the beating. Looking up they saw a hall window open and they could hear everything. They crawled low to sit underneath it and stare up at the night sky.

Piggy grinned as he heard Polivar swear and scream. Samara covered her mouth to hide a giggle when they heard Raff cry out in pain. They tried to count how many times their Masters were hit compared to the others. Next they heard Brat screech and then Sandor hiss in pain. Now it was Dusten and it was all repeated.

Wincing at a few particular hard whacks, the cringing two sat up a bit more eager with malicious grins on their faces, watching the moonlight in the window. When Gregor had both Polivar and Raff sobbing, begging for Sir to forgive them, to please stop, both pets felt a moment of vindication so strong, it terrified them.  

Then the most amazing thing in the world happened. Both Samara and Piggy slowly dropped their jaws slack, eyes huge.

"What did I say I would do in that text I sent you today? When I tried to be UNDERSTANDING AND KIND to you all? Huh? Tell me Raff, what did I say would happen?" It took a moment for Samara to recognize this as her Master's voice. A stammering, unsure, hurting voice. "You..You said you would shove your fists..up our asses and have a puppet show, Sir."

"That's right. And did you listen? Did you heed my wise advice to be quiet? No." They heard Polivar mutter something and then him cry out. Gregor's words got louder and angrier. So did Polivar's cries in between sentences that Gregor roared.

"I don't give a fuck who was screaming or why. I don't know where the small kindergarten class I heard screaming went. Frankly, I don't give shit if you skinned forty kittens while holding them against Tickler's speakers! I warned all of you and like children you didn't pay attention. SEE, THIS IS WHY WE CAN'T HAVE NICE THINGS! So since my day has been ruined worrying if Tywin can also hear you...I am going to ruin your day and night. Gregor wants a puppet show and guess what our theme is? Why we should always listen to Gregor's wise advice. And I shall take my time at this show, children. You are all a bit slow and I want to make sure this lesson really sinks into your fucking heads."

Samara and Piggy could barely breathe as they heard sounds from Polivar and Raff that they will hide in their memories. To hear the yelped words repeated back in a pleading tone to "Never forget or ignore Sir's wise advice", it was a treasure, priceless, a gift from the real gods. It was only to be pulled out when things were so bad it seemed a good idea to run, to kill, to die....then they could remember these sweet sounds. When Gregor made Polivar and Raff use their sobbing, strained voices to repeat his rule, Piggy and Samara both sat against each other, sobbing and laughing until it hurt.

Piggy heard Brat scream louder than the others and he winced a tiny bit. Samara's fingers flew along scars upon their legs.

"Yeah, it was fucking awful what she did to me. But she tried to save you earlier and I take anything that Polivar throws at me. I think she understood that it was much worse for you to be punished. And then...Brat had to prove she was a worse bully. She certainly made her fucking point. I forgive her for it. You should too. Think of what Raff would have done after the party if he thought you just were being lazy? Last time he thought you were lazy he removed all your toenails. Brat saved you from worse than that because you know it is always worse if Raff has to repeat anything."

Samara nodded and shivered, pulling her feet under her protectively. The drag of wood across the raw beds of flesh don't bother her as much anymore. It is just another pain that gets in line with the others waiting to be noticed. A chill gripped her and she crossed her arms as Dusten began to make stifled cries that became howled words. Piggy put an arm around her and they listened to the lovely sounds of the night.

 

Cersei staggered down the hallway, past her son and the silent guards that came with her uncle. She headed for the bar to get another bottle of wine. Kevan had been sitting on the couch with Tommen having a very chummy conversation, at least on his side. Her uncle looked up, his voice and face sharp with disapproval.

"You don't need anymore of that, young lady. Why not tend to your son whom you haven't seen at all today?" Grabbing a bottle of wine, Cersei turned and walked slowly like a queen that imbibed too much at a castle banquet. 

"Tommen, Mommy is having a day off. Mommy actually loved your brother and I have chosen this one day to have for my grief. So your Mommy is taking a sick day. Today Mommy is broken, tomorrow I will be all better and will smile at breakfast for you. But until then Mommy needs everyone to just fuck off."

It was unclear if Tommen and Kevan were shocked by the words or the appearance of Cersei.

Her blonde hair was not brushed, unwashed and it looked like a lions mane around her head. Cersei had not a bit of make up on her face and the soft living room lights were not kind. Dark bruises under her eyes, bags that made her eyes look so very tired. Her skin seemed pulled so tightly and her cheekbones looked hollow.

Kevan sucked in his breath and his words were soft, amazed. "My word. You are truly grieving that boy, aren't you?" Cersei just stared dully at him and he nodded. "I understand a mother needs to grieve for her lost son, regardless of what he was. He was first a son. Go on, have your grieving any way you'd like. But we shall have words tomorrow about Dusten, about our family and your role in it."

Cersei laughed as she gave him the middle finger and went back upstairs. "Fuck you, fuck our family name. Right now I don't care if it all burns to the ground." Tommen and Kevan remained silent until they heard the slam of Cersei's door.

"I am very sorry you had to see your mother that way, Tommen. She loves you dearly, but your mommy has to grieve her own way. Some get angry, some get sad. It is fine that you are not sad that Joff is dead. I understand what he has done to you and your sister. He was a monster and best put to the back of our minds. So, your grandfather said that you were very jumpy ever since your sister's death."

Tommen wished his mother would come back as Uncle Kevan moved closer until he was nearly on him.

"Please back up, I feel like I am about to get molested by Dr. Phil!" Tommen yelled, finally having enough and he stood up, ready to fight or flee. The men with the mirror glasses all clapped and his uncle beamed at him approvingly. "What the fuck?" Hollered Tommen, throwing his arms up in frustration.

Kevan sat back and finished his tea. "I wanted to make sure you weren't a broken thing. I am glad to see you aren't. You are just scared, spooked. But the things you are spooked by are dead. We heard that Cat is dead, Ned is dead and all their sons. Only the girls are left and they are with us. No one left to be scared by."

Kevan watched Tommen's face try and register everything he said. "Wait...all the boys? Even Rickon? And I shouldn't be fucking terrified? If our enemies hate us so much they are willing to kill kids my age, my sister's age?"

Tommen shivered and the personality that had been emerging slowly before Cersei came down was gone.

Here was the twitchy boy again. What has that woman done to this poor child? Kevan saw what he had to do. Even if he doesn't leave with Lancel, Kevan will be leaving with someone.

 


	74. Bowing Heads As If In Prayer

The next few days would be a whirlwind of black clothing, caskets and believable, false grief.

 

Cersei had sat holding Sansa's hand as she delicately explained that her entire family except Arya was dead. Sansa cried and Cersei comforted her. Both felt they deserved an award for their performance. Tyrion came over an hour later and offered his condolences as did his Uncle Kevan. Sansa was charmed by Tyrion's wit but Kevan was amusing in his over dramatic and intense need to share his assistance.

 

Gregor called Brat to his office. He gruffly explained that her family was gone but Sansa. He also informed Brat that she was a widow. "You shall take time off for the services. Since we are all one big family, you have lost nothing really. However, we shall all come to your family and your husband's funeral." 

 

Polivar was stunned when Brat came in for the first time into the Barracks. He grinned and watched as the girl plopped into a chair. Then he hollered at Piggy to offer a drink. Flushed, Piggy came running in from doing Polivar's laundry. "What can I get you to drink, Brat? I have fresh coffee, if you want some."

Shaking her head and giving a sudden sunny smile Brat said, "A beer please. Polivar, I want to get fucked up tonight. Like real party fucked up. My husband is dead. My family is dead. I feel free and guilty for it. I have some money...give me something that will make me fly. Oh one thing, if you roofie me, or give me something that will make me fuck you....I'll go after your balls instead of Piggy's."

Polivar grumbled that Brat was a cunt but he rummaged through his box more carefully this time. "Well, who are you partying with? Sandor? Or do you want to stay here? You can't go around the grounds all fucked up. If Gregor caught you..." He didn't need to finish that statement.

Both of them shuddered. Last night was awful, degrading and painful. The worst part was afterwards Gregor made them all form a line at Qyburn's. "I don't want anyone missing work because of a fucking bleed out. So you all can get looked at for stitches."

"If I stay here, promise you will not try to mess with me sexually..and you won't let the others either. Promise me, your balls are on the line." Brat stared intently at Polivar until he grudgingly agreed. "After last night...not really in the fucking mood. Doubt the others are either. Here, this will make everything feel warm and fuzzy."  He handed over some pills to her and took a few himself.

Piggy waited until the narcotics kicked in and they were happy. Then he gently maneuvered them to sit on the living room couch and watch a horror movie. Piggy put Green Inferno on for them, gave snacks and beer. Sighing in relief, he crept away to get a cup of coffee. He managed four sips of it before Polivar hollered for him.

After running for beer and more chips it seemed easier to just sit on the rug and wait for the commands. He asked permission to bring his coffee in and Polivar was in such a good mood he nodded. Then proceeded to knock the coffee over with his boot. Giggling, Polivar told Piggy to clean the mess he made or else he'd get a beating. Sighing, Piggy started to scrub the spot and he apologized for spilling his coffee on the rug.

 

Samara was in a dress, her hair and make up done and was standing near Raff who was at Gregor's house. They were outside of it and Raff was fighting with one of his slavers. She only knows them by their voices and shoes, obeying the rule to never look at the men. "The man is too injured to work, he says. He is begging for medical assistance. Should I bring him to our doctor?" Raff snorted and said, "Bring him to me, over in my yard. Out of view, dammit."

Raff snapped his fingers as he moved and Samara rushed to follow him into the Barracks yard. Once in the relative privacy, Raff simply said, "Down." Samara knelt in the soft grass, feeling it cushion and itch her bare knees at the same time. A thin, pale sweating man was dragged forth by the worker and thrown before Raff.

Samara was allowed to look at other slaves and she gave this one a look of sympathy. Her hair was done smooth and flat to either side of her head tonight. The man could easily see her face and expression and it gave him the slightest comfort and hope.

"Now, let me see this injury of yours." Raff's voice was a soft, sympathetic sound and Samara shivered, cringing lower. Even though she knew the voice and the danger wasn't for her, it was still terrifying.  The man didn't know this of course, he has only seen Raff a few times from a distance.

He was aware that this man was the big boss of it all, the manager of the slaves. This was the man who might listen and help him. Imploringly, the man held up his mangled fingers. Two of them were not just crushed but bloody and there were hints of bone everywhere.

"Please, Sir...please. I want to obey and work for you, I am grateful for this fresh air and food and...please, it hurts so badly and I can't work this way. Please, may I see a doctor?" The man was groveling and Raff gave him a merciful smile as he gently took the injured hand into his own. "I'm going to help you. Hush now. It will be very fast."

He nodded up at his man who threw the man to the ground and knelt on him. Samara watched the worker's hand on the thin wrist of the now screaming, begging slave. The worker extended the arm out and then Raff knelt down holding a blade. "Now, I'm not a doctor but I am really good at quick patches."

Quickly, the blade flashed and Samara's eyes tracked it as it removed the crushed fingers. Raff ignored the screams and pressed a towel hard against the wounds. "Samara, go turn on the grill." She jumped then crawled fast over to the grill. Kneeling up, she couldn't reach the knob but she was too afraid to stand. Not with Raff holding a knife, not with her Master using that voice and face.

A sigh from behind then the cooing tone that makes her cry. "Sweetie, you can't reach the knob, can you? So little, so tiny and fragile, aren't you, dear? You may stand to turn the knob."

With a whimper, Samara stood and turned the knob. She crawled back but went very low, to her stomach as she approached Raff. "You want to apologize, I know. But I am very busy right now, Samara. It is alright, you didn't want to interrupt me and you were scared to stand. Next time, just come here and wait for me to acknowledge you. Good girl, stay and hush."

Raff pointed to a spot near him and Samara immediately crawled there to grovel low. Raff leaned down to the groaning man. "Now, notice even though she made a little error, she was unharmed. She was forgiven."

Grabbing the man by his hair, Raff yanked him up to force him to see the monster in the handsome, merciful face. The voice was velvet that just covered a blade. "My girl knows better than to complain to me of an injury. She wouldn't dare, she knows her place. But you came to me and look, problem is solved! Well, except for the bleeding, but we are going to take care of that in just a moment. Karl, gag him for this part."

The man finally caught on and began to struggle. "Hush, if you struggle, I'll take more fingers. Then you can't work at all. That means I must find other uses for you. A finger-less man won't have the best of homes..." Raff kept his voice sweet but the blade was sharp and sinking slowly into the slave's left pinky. "Please! I'm sorry, I won't struggle. I'll behave, I will, please don't take more fingers, Sir, please!"

Smirking, Raff removed his blade while the man sobbed. "Now, let's finish this and you can be on your way. I'm going to allow you tomorrow to stay in the sick room and rest. Then you will be back to work and I expect no further issues with you."

The man cried and groaned but he didn't fight Raff and Karl as they took him to the grill. He screamed when they cauterized his bloody finger stumps. Expertly and coldly, Raff quickly cleaned the burns, slathered ointment on them then bandaged the hand.

"Karl, he is to recieve antibiotics twice a day. If he is behaving, he may have two Vicodin every four hours. When he returns to work, if he needs it and is behaving, give him more if it makes him capable to work." Raff pulled out a little bottle that Samara knows well. It is for that so bad pain and for helping her aches to stop long enough to function.

Her knees make horrid sounds if she stands more than a few minutes at a time and they hurt. Samara's back is always a special kind of hell of it's own whether standing or crawling. She envy's this poor slave's dose even though she had received her own earlier.

The poor poor man certainly needed and deserved those drops. Samara felt bad for him of course she did. But her Master was using his voices on him. Now was cradling his jaw so tenderly, offering the drops on the man's eager tongue. _What the hell is wrong with me? I am fucking petrified but I am jealous? How can I be jealous of that? Oh gods, I really am going crazy. Dusten is right, something is very wrong with me._

At no time was Raff unaware of his girl or this pathetic slave. He was amused at Samara's look of sympathy at the man, it only made it sweeter to crush the man's hope. Raff was delighted to see the jealousy and hurt in her eyes. It was something he has been waiting for. He noticed her empathizing with him and offering affection bit by bit. Here was Samara now actually wanting her Master's attention, next she will actively seek it out.

Immensely cheered by this, Raff pulled the man closer and cradled him. "There. Just let the medicine work. You will never act so rude and daring again. Will you?"

The stoned man whimpered and shook his head. "You are very sorry, aren't you?" A nod and tears fell. "Good. I forgive you. You are grateful for the medication and time off I am giving you. Aren't you?" Another nod and a very submissive, defeated, "Yes Sir. I am sorry and I am grateful."

Raff smiled as Samara was unable to hide her expressions under her hair. She was so unused to these sudden thoughts she couldn't keep her usual mask. Raff really struggled not to laugh as Karl took the man away and Samara's eyes tracked them.

It took willpower not to laugh at her but Raff didn't. Instead he smiled at the wretched pathetic idiot and said, "Good. Now go with Karl and he can let you rest in the van until it's time to leave." He stood up and pulled the slave up with him then let him lean against Karl.


	75. Performances, Promises And Problems

"Look at this shit. Just fucking stop and look, would you! For like...two fucking...no LOOK!"

Finally, Yellow Dick leaned over Luton like a curious praying mantis. He winced as he saw the brief clip of the bodies on the cell phone. "Ned ain't dead yet, Luton, okay? We can always appeal to him for...." The voice over informed them that Ned Stark died on his way to the hospital.

Luton grabbed his head. "Alright, who else knew we were fighting for the North? Anyone that will vouch for seeing us during the time the kids died? I mean those weren't fucking adults, Dick! Those were kids, a bunch of them. We are fucked. So fucked. If anyone knows or saw...we need to get as far from here as we can."

Dick and Luton had been late for Ben's pickup. When they stopped at the store they were again holding things up. Dick had to use the bathroom and apparently take quite the hefty shit. Luton kept trying to use old coupons to pay for things while flirting with the clearly not interested cashier.

This had caused Robb and Ramsay great distress. Robb kept growling at him and Ramsay kept threatening him. Luton wanted to yell back that he wasn't fucking Reek. But he held his tongue and finished his purchase.

He was leaning against the ice cooler near the toilets waiting for Dick to finish. Then suddenly there was an explosion and Luton watched Ramsay, Reek and Robb fly off. "Well how the fuck do you like that?" He screeched and pounded on the bathroom door. "Shit your pants if you have to but get the fuck out here. We need to run right now..hurry!"

They flew straight into the woods and hiked their way towards the east. Thank the Gods that the boys were both forced into years of "Scouts". Every spring, summer and fall they could be seen prowling the woods or climbing rocks, or a dozen camper tents invading a clearing.

However, they learned everything from how to build knots to how survive in the woods if you had to. Their counselor was a bit frantic, a bit of a survivalist, but he was the only one that made camping fun.

So Luton and Dick finally stopped running, scattering tracks, climbing and leaping trees to throw off dogs. They had no further energy, they were so tired.

They crawled to one of their favorite hiding places as children. With Ramsay and the gloomy Jon. It was private and their was acceptance regardless of social status. They played cards. Sometimes they read magazines or took a nap or cried or stared into the distance. As they got older the others stopped coming.

They smashed into it and grinned nervously. It was much bigger in memory. "Just long enough for me to check the media and you not to die. Breath, asshole! Breathe slowly..you can do it, there ya go." Luton wanted to hit Dick really hard but instead he checked his phone with one hand while patting Dick's heaving shoulder.

"Okay explosion, ah fuck, Rickon Stark is dead, of course. They are investigating the shit out of that and hey, a shoot out. Oh fuck, Cat Stark died suddenly also. Everyone we know is fucking dead!  Damn it, keep running, we can't stay here."

So they kept running, going further, deeper into the woods where it begins to get dark as you go no matter how bright the day. Both went into it eagerly while Luton kept trying to scan his phone. That is when Luton stopped to confirm it.

Ramsay is dead, it was all for nothing. Everyone fucking died. Now he is stuck with this praying mantis, dumb as shit killer trying to run for their lives.

Luton peered up at Dick. "How do you feel about seafood? And the ocean? Boats?" With a grimace, Dick replied, "I hate all of that."

Smiling, Luton clapped his hand on his knee. "Perfect! I hate that shit too! Let's go, we have a boat to catch!"

Dick whined, "What the hell do you mean, you filthy fuckfly?"

With the happy look of a television host of a toddler show, Luton replied, "We need to go away forever, become whole new people. To do that and not get caught we must do everything opposite of what we really like. Understand that?" Dick nodded and they started to move faster.

Panicking, even though the need to pay attention to the forest, both ran until they had to stop and pant. They had no idea they were very close to a bear cub and it was with great fear, pain and surprise that they were killed by a pissed off mother bear.

 

 

The media had a great time with the pictures. A grief stricken mother and fiance holding hands bravely as they stared at Joff's gold dusted casket.

Tywin hugging them tightly shedding a single tear for his grandson,trying to be strong for his daughter.

Sansa and Arya Stark standing in front of a gruesome amount of coffins. Hugging, crying, holding hands, being comforted by Cersei and Tywin.

It seemed that Tyrion was escorting Sansa and providing great comfort. A picture of him alone standing in front of the coffin. He appeared to pray over his nephew's coffin, eyes shut in obvious tragic pain. A picture of Sansa kneeling before her parents coffins sobbing and Tyrion hugging her.

Arya was escorted by a very large friend called Sandor. He held her by the shoulders as she stood over the family friend's coffin of Ramsay Bolton. She touched the coffin and whispered something to her close family friend. Her head went down and her shoulders shook. Quickly the large man had hugged her, smashing her face into his chest until she calmed herself.

 

Another ceremony happened within those few black days but only a few knew of it. Sansa and Tyrion had no pictures taken. There were no flowers or elaborate outfits this time. Sansa wore a simple dark violet dress and Tyrion wore a gray suit. Cersei, Tommen, Kevan and Tywin sat and watched. Arya stood for Sansa and since Jaime was not allowed to attend, Tyrion asked Podrick.

The boy looked uncomfortable in his own suit. Bronn kept laughing quietly in the corner at him. Every one of the company was there for crowd filler all in suits they have never seen before. Gregor and Sandor patrolled locked doors and windows of the elegant tea room Cersie used for charity events.

Outside of the locked door were Petyr and Varys speaking only with each other.

The same person married the couple is the same that married Arya to Ramsay. Brat wanted to kill him so badly and didn't hide that from him in the least. She not only politely whispered threats to him but glared at him throughout the whole ceremony. This seemed to make Sandor shut his eyes and shake his head while Gregor seemed to watch her with a cheerful glow growing in his eyes.

Just after they all dryly clapped for Mr. and Mrs. Lannister came tiresome congratulations.

Cersei kissed Sansa on the cheek and squeezed her hand. "I'm sorry, dear." That was the most honest thing Cersei has ever said to a person. When she was told of the impending wedding she gasped in horror and actually tried to change her father's mind.

Besides, it would get lonely with this large house and just her and Tommen. Sansa was pliable, a pretty broken doll and Cersei could care for her. It was the proper thing to do but her father was not swayed.

When Raff shook Sansa's hand, she smiled and said, "Don't forget your promise to me. I am married now. I want to see Jeyne for tea tomorrow. At the Baratheon's home, please. At two." He paled and stammered for a moment but to his dismay Sansa stared with stony eyes at him. "You aren't breaking a promise to me, are you? That would be mean and rude, not to mention it might be taken as a hateful prank. And what would Gregor say about that, Raff?"

He gaped at her for a second, then snapped his mouth shut and nodded. "She will be here." Raff muttered and Sansa finally released his hand from both of hers to escape.  

Tyrion grinned at his bride, thrilled that she finally has released the real person beneath what Joff made her.

Sansa changed a moment later as Cersei came by. "Thank you for not being mad at me about this, Cersei. You have become so important to me and I don't want to lose that. I..I can still live with you for awhile, right? I don't feel ready to leave your home yet..."

Tyrion rolled his eyes and watched as his sister sneered at him while holding the quivering, poor girl. "Of course you are not to blame, dear. We all know how marriages must work here. Don't worry, you have at least six months before you two can show you are married."

 

"Samara!"

Piggy and Samara both winced. Raff only yelled for her when he was angry over something. Shuddering in anticipation of the pain coming, Samara left her stack of laundry she was folding and crawled fast towards Raff. He appeared in the kitchen just as she was going to leave it and he almost stepped on her. Whimpering, Samara went very low and kissed his shiny black shoes that she knew will really hurt when they kick her. 

"Good girl. Come here, pretty girl." Raff cooed at her but not in the very nice way. It was another kind that sounds like approval, it was dominant but it was safe. Samara loved this voice and reacted instantly to it. She didn't understand why there wasn't pain and why she was getting such a reward as praise and affection without earning it. Her face had gone up and her eyes rolled up to timidly let her twisted needy submissive worship show.

Raff smirked and rubbed gently under her chin and she melts with it. He knelt down on one knee to get closer to her. "Such a good girl for me. I am so proud of you, Samara. For learning so well, for being so loyal, so obedient." His hands softly worked, one smoothing out her hair, the other rubbing under her chin. His voice was soothing, it was pleased, it was safe and merciful and Samara drowned under it.

Piggy watched out of the corner of his eye as he continued to cook for the men he knew were coming soon. He saw poor Samara surrender completely to her Master. She was so broken down, she couldn't even tell that Raff was grooming her for something but Piggy wasn't so stupid. It was another trick of bullies. He knows grooming when he sees it.

"I am giving you permission to speak to answer questions, pretty girl." Raff cooed and Piggy froze in terror. He had so few secrets, Samara even less, but the few small things that they keep to themselves might be asked about.

Raff pinned the girl with his eyes and asked, "Do you love your Master, Samara?" As if it was being forced out of her painfully, Samara cried out, "Of course I do. Yes, Master, I love you!"

Raff gave her an affectionate tousle of her hair. "Good. Good girl. I need you to do something for me tomorrow. You want to help me, don't you?" Samara instantly agreed. "Yes Master. I would do anything for you, please!" He scratched under her chin and Piggy stared at Raff with disgust for a moment unable to help himself.

It was unfortunate that Raff saw it. "I'm glad to hear that, Samara. My pretty pet, I want you to go lay on your soft dog bed I gave you. I want to speak with Piggy for a moment."

Samara crawled, still glowing under her Master's praise, timid and vulnerable at admitting her fucked up feelings. She curled in the soft tan dog bed in the kitchen corner closest to where Raff always sat. Piggy cringed back as Raff strolled over to him, as if just taking a small walk. "What is for dinner, Piggy?"

Raff had a polite smile on his face, eyes innocent and welcoming. "I..uh..I am making fried chicken with gravy, mashed potatoes and broccoli pie. All of Polivar's favorite of mine because he left annoyed." Piggy couldn't stop the babble.

Raff reached the boy and grabbed his head with both hands. He slowly began to lower Piggy's face towards the hot oil and breaded chicken that spit hot tiny brands into his skin. "Please, Raff, I'm sorry! Please, please, don't! I'm sorry, so sorry!"

Samara watched from the bed and worried for Piggy but dared not move an inch. Not when Raff was truly pleased with her!

Raff pulled Piggy's face up and then threw the boy to the ground.

He stepped on Piggy's neck and warned, "Don't move or I might break your worthless fucking neck. Has my girl ever told you about my slaves? Huh? In your strange little silent language? If you were one of my slaves, I would have sold you to a cannibal who loves fat young things for a very high price. You are only here because you were so disgusting and pathetically amusing to bully that Polivar kept you. A pet. If you ever look at me with anything but respect, I will pay Polivar to let me train you for a few hours as punishment for being disrespectful to me. Hear me, boy?"

Piggy sobbed and whined, "Yes, I hear you. Please don't....I will never do it again. Please, I am very sorry. I am very sorry for being disrespectful to you, Raff." Satisfied, Raff took his foot off Piggy's neck. "Get your ass up and back to making dinner. Polivar will be so pissed if you burn his chicken."

Piggy struggled to his feet as the chicken began to smell a little smoky. He struggled with the shakes as he removed the skillet from the heat and opened windows. Then with a sob and a hateful thought for Raff, Piggy started to bread new chicken.

Raff snapped his fingers and Samara followed him obediently to his room. He patted his bed and Samara climbed up then knelt, waiting for orders or a cock to go into her mouth.

That was how Raff liked it and giving even this small pocket of time to Sansa with his girl bothered him. Not when she was doing so well, what if Sansa triggered something in Samara? What if she tried to kill her like Damon? What if she started to resist him because of this visit?

"Do you know that you are my favorite girl? My best pet? I picked you up something. I was saving it for a reward but I want to give it to you now." Raff came over to the bed and showed her a new collar. It was bright pink, her favorite color and there were rhinestone studs all around it. Samara cried and meekly smiled all at once, extending her neck forward. She kissed her Master's hands and the collar to show him her gratitude and thanks.

Raff took off her old collar and massaged her neck gently for a minute and rested his chin lightly on her head as his hands moved. "Good girl. Mine, all mine and I am yours. Your Master always no matter where you are or what you are doing, Master is always with you in your head. I need you to do something tomorrow. Do you remember Sansa Stark? You may speak freely until I tell you to be silent, pretty girl. There are no wrong answers, sweet girl, don't cry."

He cooed and wiped her tears away as Samara shook.

"Now, do you remember Sansa? I know since you have been here your past is hazy. But you know I went to Sansa's wedding today, correct?" Samara nodded. "Yes Master. Sansa was a friend..sleepovers and playing with dolls. We were friends until I broke up with Robb in high school. Sansa tried to still hang with me sometimes but it was always awkward."

She spoke as if it were about someone else and Raff smiled. "Very good, Samara. Such a good girl you are for me."

He caressed her face and spoke slow and softly. "Sansa asked if she could see you for tea. I had promised her when she married I would allow one visit with you. Master needs his good girl to sit and have tea with Sansa. It will only be you and her. I will be very close by, in case you need me. You can speak if you would like, sweet girl, it is alright, go on."

Samara very hesitantly offered her fears and concerns to her Master. "I..I do not remember. I don't....I know my rules, Master, I do! I don't know how to do tea. I'm scared I will fail you, Master. I never want to do that." Raff smiled and kissed his poor distressed girl for a moment before he replied.

"You don't need to remember anything, Samara. We will teach you how to have tea with Sansa. You just have to listen and obey, easy as that, pretty girl." Raff thought it was would easy to teach a girl how to have tea. _I mean if children do it certainly his regressed slave can recall it?_

He was very wrong.

 

 

Tommen managed to finally rid his fucking death suits and he took off.

When Varys finally made it to his "alternate" office, Tommen had been there for some hours.  He found Tommen in the quiet room, that was a first. It was a room for someone out of control that needs to let out some aggression.

It locks and inside it is all plush weave that is also very strong. It covers the floor and walls as well as the door. Varys hires some of the older children to monitor and use the quiet room as needed.

Varys watched the boy through the monitor as the boy screamed and threw himself against the walls. "He wasn't punching or hurting himself so I didn't put any restraints on him. The brat just kept kicking the broken games in the hallway while screeching. I tried to speak to him but he didn't seem to hear me. So I picked him up and tossed him in there about a half hour ago. He should tire out soon."

Varys thanked the teen and handed him twenty dollars. "On your night off you should go out and get some dinner, not pizza from the snack bar. When Tommen is ready to leave the room, bring him to me. Then you can call it a day here."

The grateful homeless teen left ready to boast to some of the others of his earned extra money. He was so lucky that Varys allows him and some others to sleep in the space upstairs. It even has a bathroom and working water, a whole bunch of cots and sleeping bags.

It was monitored and there was always someone that stopped any trouble before it started. Boy and girls of all ages were welcome to this safe haven of food and shelter. The one rule besides having something for Varys to hear. They must respect each other, no fighting or stealing allowed.

No sexual contact of any sort unless you can prove you are over sixteen and belong to the older rooms. If this place is ever raided, there is extensive evidence to show that NONE of the children were ever molested while in Vary's care.

Varys sat and did some work on his laptop while pondering what should be done about Tommen.

 


	76. Trying To Force Nature To Change

Every person in the two estates including the Barracks was in a very bad mood. Except Tywin, Gregor and eventually, Kevan.

Tywin had his writing materials ready. He saved all written correspondence for these times. Those who wish to have their replies in electronic form recieve their answers within two days.

Gregor has taken his usual position behind Tywin. Brat was working with him for the foreseeable future. He watched happily as the girl tried to ignore her stinging armpits, thighs and feet.

Oh how he loves to use bamboo sticks and lucky that Waif saw them. Very carefully he struck so that Brat would still be able to do her job, not very deep or much. But enough that Brat wasn't about to forget her place again. Brat shifted slightly as she stood near the doors.

Sandor was now Cersei's shadow and there was no fear of seduction on any side of that. She was pretending he didn't exist and he wished she didn't exist. Gregor has decided that his brother and Brat were a bit too close and he plans to nip that in the fucking bud.Sandor and Brat having a romance doesn't fit into his plans.

The first of Tywin's visitors came through the door. It was his brother and his entourage. The three men stood on the opposite side of Brat. Kevan walked over to the chair and sat down. "Oh, knock it off, Tywin.  The letter you are responding to is probably years old and the person is dead. Father taught us both the same trick, remember?"

With a sigh, Tywin looked up and calmly asked, "How can I help you this morning, dear brother? I thought we were going to speak at our meeting later on." Kevan smiled and replied, "Yes, but that is about business, this is about family. I have two things to ask you."

Tywin raised his eyebrows and folded his hands on the desk. "Of course, family. I asked you here to help fix very specific issues, not to meddle. Well, go on then, ask your questions."

Kevan stood up and leaned over the desk intensely. "I want my son back. Tell that mountain behind you that Dusten needs to take a sick leave." Gregor snorted and Tywin smirked.

"I will not do that. Gregor takes his contracts with his men very seriously. Your son knew the rules and signed the contract with full knowledge of what he was doing. What he did was troublesome, yes. But I have full confidence that Gregor can handle Dusten's discipline. What is your next question?"

"He is my son! I have the right to help him if he is ill. Dusten-" Kevan frowned as Tywin interrupted him. "He is an adult, you have no rights concerning him. He is not ill, he is a young man easily manipulated by older women. Gregor will see that Dusten learns to be a little wiser in his choices. Now, what is your next question?"

Kevan looked offended but he gave in and changed subjects. "Fine then. I would like to take Tommen back to Casterly Rock with me. No one here has time for him and he is clearly traumatized. I can offer care, support, education and more, you know that."

Tywin shook his head. "No. Tommen must stay here with me. At least for now. However, you won't go home empty handed. If you are up to a challenge, that is. Since you are so determined to fix someone's mental illness." Kevan stared at his brother. When he left the study a bit later, he was smiling. It was not a nice smile.

 

Cersei stormed into her father's study. Tywin was not surprised and he continued his letter. She slammed her fists on the desk. "You will NOT allow that meddling asshole take my son anywhere! Do you hear me, he is MY SON. Not yours and certainly not his."

Tywin looked up slowly and sternly at his daughter. "No one is taking Tommen anywhere, dear. Tommen is not leaving." Cersei snarled and hissed out, "My boy hasn't been seen in over six hours and Uncle Kevan just said he was packing to head home. He said that he wasn't able to help his son, but he is taking another that need his assistance. I doubt he means Sansa or Tyrion!" 

Looking over his shoulder, Tywin muttered, "Send someone to find Tommen, please." Gregor nodded and texted Dusten to go find the boy. "Dusten will use the tracker in Tommen's phone to find him." Gregor assured Cersei and he leaned back against the wall.

"It isn't Tommen that is leaving with Kevan, it's you. This is one scandal too many, dear. I stand to gain all of the North and I can't have you making a mess of it. Do you really think Olenna Tyrell is going to be alright with this? You think she doesn't suspect you, us of killing her grand children after framing them? It is too dangerous for you to be here. You will go to Casterly Rock with your uncle who will care for you while you seek treatment. He will help facilitate that." Tywin stared at his daughter as she went pale.

"I won't go anywhere. You cannot force me to leave with anyone! How dare you try to do this to me? I am a person not a fucking chess piece, father!" Cersei panted with rage and fear.

"Do you wish to see your son on holidays and vacations? I can simply have you put away. As soon as I cut off all access to Valium and liquor, how sick do you think you'll get? I can get you committed, dear. So can your uncle. Then you will never see your son. So you will go to Casterly Rock and see whichever therapist your uncle suggests. You will be allowed to continue your pills and wine as long as you comply with your uncle and therapist."

Tywin remained impassive as his daughter cried tears of pure rage as she spit out, "I fucking hate you. I hate you with every piece of me." 

 

Dusten stared down into the gulch and moaned. There was Tommen's phone, abandoned along with his wallet. He quickly texted Gregor and took a picture of the cell phone and wallet still lying in the mud. This was going to be such a bad and long day. 

 

Polivar came into the Barracks to a most interesting scene in the kitchen. The kitchen table was set for a grand tea party. That was baffling enough. Raff sat in one chair and across from him sat Samara. Raff had his face in his hands, trying to keep his temper and Samara was in tears. "Dare I ask?" Raff said something but it was muffled by his hands and Samara as usual said nothing.

Piggy brought Polivar his coffee and gave the latest gossip. "Raff is trying to teach Samara how to act at Sansa's tea visit today. But Samara is unable to just act normal, without commands. And having Raff as a tea partner makes it worse. It is her Master, she can't act as a free girl would in front of her own Master." Shoving his boy, Polivar walked over to Raff and kicked his foot.

"Hey moron, if you want it to work, you can't be the one acting with her. Let my Piggy do it. He can pretend to be like Sansa and Samara can feel better about doing it right for you." Raff looked up at Polivar then he stared coldly at the boy. "Yeah, fine. I'm out of patience and ideas." He stood up and shoved Piggy into the seat.

Raff went over to Samara and smoothed her hair, making sure it was not in her face.

"I want you to have a tea party with Piggy. You have full permission to speak and have tea, sandwiches, whatever is offered during tea. With Piggy now and with Sansa later. Remember that, sweet girl?" Samara nodded but leaned into Raff's touch and shivered. "Good girl. It is alright, just do this for your Master and I will be so pleased with you." Raff cooed and then stepped back. He and Polivar sat on the counter, having coffee.

Samara managed a timid smile and spoke after a few failed tries. "This is the first time I can speak to you. Really talk out loud to you." Piggy beamed and nodded. "I know, right? Now just make your voice a little louder and firmer. You are certain of what you are saying so make sure that I know it. Okay? You are doing really well!"

Soon she was pouring tea and she decided on her own how she wanted it. Samara couldn't help but to keep looking over at Raff. He would smile encouragingly. It wasn't great, but it would pass for a small visit, he hoped.

Raff gave her a small break, letting her eat lunch from his hand. Then he sat her in the chair and asked her questions, then told her the answers. She repeated the answers and tried to memorize them as best she could.

Samara was given a shower by her Master and he pressed the fake nails onto her fingers. She whimpered but Raff hushed her gently, it made the pain worth the nice treatment. The dress was different, not at all what she wore when out with Master. It was less revealing, longer and looked very expensive.

Raff did not do her hair like he usually likes it. Straight and long on either side of her head. He curled her hair with a hot iron as he softly prompted her in the questions again.

If she answered wrong the iron slipped and burned her a little. When Samara got the answers right, Raff told her she was a very good girl. Samara tried very hard and by the time her hair was done all the answers were correct. Samara felt her hair styled then Raff brought out make up.

That was different too. The usual dark colors weren't used, these were pastels, very soft pinks and corals. Swiftly, her Master applied some make up but it was not nearly as much as usual. 

She never looked in mirrors, but today Samara peeked into it. Who was this person staring back at her? It was a pretty girl, a soft featured young lady with expensive jewelry and clothes. The hair was pulled back into a pony tail then a mass of black curls cloaked her to her hips. Samara whimpered and inched into Raff's side.

"I know that girl isn't really my lovely Samara. It is just make up, just a costume and an act. My good girl will not forget who she is, will she? You will not disappoint me, you would never do that, not MY pet." Raff's voice was kind but there was an edge to it. Samara yelped in pain as Raff grabbed her neck and yanked her back. Raff grabbed the front of her throat and slammed her into the wall. He stepped close, until they were touching.

"You like my mercy, my gifts to you? Do you want to have your Master be kinder? Then you must earn it. Do this for me. You will have tea with Sansa, you will say what I have taught you and then you leave. I will be right outside the door waiting for my pet. If I cannot be there for some reason, you will walk back to the Barracks on your own. I will trust you with this because I know my Samara is loyal and loves me. She would never do anything that would hurt me...would you?"

Raff watched the girl cry, he saw her desperate silent pleading to speak.

"No speaking right now. I want you to listen and pay attention, be calm. You will do enough talking with Sansa soon enough. Now, I want you to remember at all times, who owns you. I want you to keep my voice in your head to guide you, to remind you that you are only on a task. That no matter how Sansa acts, no matter what she says, only Master can ever keep you safe. You know that, don't you, sweet pretty girl? I am going to give you some of those drops to help you walk better. Open your mouth for me, pretty girl."

Obediently, Samara opened her mouth and cried in relief as the drops made the constant pain ease. Samara has learned how to focus and fight off the buzz of the drug. What mattered to Samara was the ability to move her limbs without biting back screams. Raff was caressing her face and then he bit at her lips. "My good girl, aren't you?"

Samara was relaxed and felt warm as one of his hands slipped between her legs. "Here is another way to relax and reward my loyal pet. Shh...I want to let my pet have all the pleasure right now. Good girl, pump against my hand...you are a needy little bitch..MY needy little bitch. Good bitch...listen to you whine, you want Master to use his fingers?"

Raff used three fingers hard and fast until his girl soaked his hand while crying out. "There, feel better?" Raff kissed her head while Samara recovered. "Show me that you deserve all this special treatment, if you truly love me, you will not fail me. I have faith in you, Samara."

 

Just as Raff got to the door of the Baratheon's with Samara when he received a text from Gregor. Swearing under his breath, Raff was about to bring Samara back home when the door opened. "I need to change the date. I just received a text from Gregor, I need to go assist Dusten." 

Sansa smiled brilliantly at them both then she said to Raff, "Oh, it was only us girls having tea, you weren't invited, remember? When we are done I will have her go straight home. With an escort if it pleases you. I swear to keep the visit to thirty minutes."

He had no choice, he had to go. "Fine. Samara can walk herself back home, I trust my girl. Be good for me, sweet pet." Raff stroked Samara's head for a moment then Sansa said, "You changed her name? And to the name of a horror girl? I am calling her Jeyne, its her name as far as I am concerned."

Raff's features hardened and he satred at Sansa. "No. You will call her by Samara or I will order her to leave. If Samara hears the name Jeyne she is to leave. You understand that, Samara? Good girl." With a last warning glare to Sansa, he left. 

 

Gregor grabbed hold of Brat when the three robots that Kevan brought covered their family meal. He dragged her out the door and walked quickly towards his cottage. "Sir, have I done something wrong?" After her punishment she has been trying her hardest to behave. What could she have done?

In confusion, Brat saw that Gregor was actually heading for his home. Even Sandor hasn't gotten to see it, why was Brat receiving this honor? Her curious was peaked but so was her trepidation.


	77. Hearing The Dungeon Doors Slamming Shut

Brat followed Gregor into his house with admitted curiosity. Even Sandor has only seen what little bit they all can glimpse from the burned out spaces. It was nice but to Arya Stark's practiced if uninterested eye this was nothing special.

This was what Uncle Petyr's place looked like, there is nothing special in that. She expected skull candles and human skin wallpaper, it was a bit of a let down. Until she entered the living room and hollered, "OH COME ON!"

Petyr smirked and said, "Why good day to you too, Brat."

 

Samara sat across from Sansa. "Thank you for coming to visit with me. It was wrong of me to just run off like that the last time we saw each other. Raff assured me that while you are in here with me that you are allowed to use your voice. Would you like some tea?"

_Too late Sansa saw what had come to tea as Samara grabbed the silver tea pot and swung the boiling hot water into that pretty face. While the redhead screamed, Samara began to beat the girl's head in until it was mush and bone and gristle._

_YOU ARE MAKING ME BREAK ALL MY RULES! I WILL GET HURT FOR THIS, HE WILL BE DISAPPOINTED IN ME! HE MAY SAY DIFFERENT BUT I KNOW I WILL PAY FOR THIS, I WILL HURT FOR BREAKING THE RULES ONE WAY OR ANOTHER! I AM TRYING TO BE BETTER, TO SHOW HIM I LOVE HIM WHY CAN'T YOU LET ME HAVE AT LEAST THIS? YOU AND DAMON YOU MUST FORCE YOUR GUILT ON ME! JUST STOP MAKING ME BREAK MY RULES!_

"Yes, thank you." Samara smiled the best she could pretending it was Piggy telling a joke. "I am sorry to hear of your many losses, Sansa." She took the cup from Sansa and tried to remember how she liked her tea again.

"You like two sugars with a little milk." Sansa offered dryly and Samara gave a small practiced giggle. "I guess I have forgotten a few things. Sorry."

Rolling her eyes, Sansa sipped at her tea then said, "You sound coached to death and every move of yours is robotic. When I saw you last time, that was the real girl? Because if this is an act, its a shitty one. The deranged girl was much more natural."

Samara kept her eyes down and sipped at her tea. "It's black still, you don't like it that way." Sansa said but Samara sipped and found she liked the harsher taste. "I like it this way now."

Sansa smiled and leaned over to put her hand gently on Samara's arm. A gasp and Samara froze, gritting her teeth as if the touch burned.

"Listen, I know you are scared. Joff scared me to death, he hurt me badly, not as bad as you...but quite badly. Let me help you, I didn't have power to before...but I do now. I can keep you hidden from Raff or I can have him killed, whichever you'd prefer. Please, I can save you if you'll let me." Sansa waited for Samara to agree.

Sansa felt a chill as Samara's eyes rose to hers very slowly and a cold smirk played on her lips.

"Save me? Not my friend Piggy who has kept me sane and has taken beatings in my place? Not your sister who has also tried to protect me? Why save me? We haven't been good friends in years. You need another person in case you have more framing to do? I knew Loras and Margeary these past few months, they were harmless on their own without their grandmother. They also tried to defend me. I never knew Piggy, Loras, Margeary most of my life and I barely knew your sister and yet...they all defended me. I knew you quite well once...only now you suddenly care? Fuck you, Sansa. Fuck you."

"Do you think if you show Raff how obedient you are and how much you care for him he will ease up on you? Do you think if you can just be good enough he will love you? Treat you better? I had those same exact thoughts with Joff and it proved wrong every time. And that was a man who could only go half as far as Raff can go. How long until he kills you?"

Sansa was relentless and Samara got up, heading for the door. "No, I have another fifteen minutes left. You can leave then but until that time you will hear me out." Sansa grabbed Samara's arm when the girl didn't listen to her. She didn't expect the hard shove that sent her to the floor.

"You always had to have something better than the rest of us! Well, this might be shitty for you but it is all I have got left! You aren't ruining it for me, Sansa. Ask Damon about making me break my rules. Leave me alone and don't ask for any more visits with me."

Samara yanked open the door and headed for the door as fast as she could. Only after she fled to the fresh sunny air did she claw the ponytail holder out and push her hair over her face. She headed for the Barracks from behind the homes so no one would see her.

As she passed Gregor's house she could hear Brat screaming in what sounded like rage and pain. Then Samara heard a man she has never heard before shriek and curse. By the time Gregor yelled, Samara was already past the house and almost to her own yard.  

 

Only Sandor was present to see Petyr come storming out of his brother's house, holding a bloody towel to his hand. He came to tell Gregor that one of the creepy sunglasses dudes just took his damned job. That he went to Tywin and was told that Kevan had full custody of Cersei's welfare.

Sandor never made it to the door to knock before Petyr came flying out. 

Seconds after Petyr came out, Brat came flying after him. Sandor stared as Brat dove for the man's legs and brought the shrieking man down. He went to remove her from Petyr's kicking legs but Sandor found himself thrown aside. Gregor calmly leaned down and plucked the angry girl off the cursing man.

"You need to get control over her!" Petyr hissed and Gregor swung back around as if he didn't have Brat tucked under one of his arms like luggage. "Excuse me? Would you like to discuss my control issues? Because we can go right back inside and really have a good heart to heart over it."

Petyr scurried to his feet and backed up fast. "No...I lost my temper, the girl rattled me. Forgive my slip of the tongue." He quickly left and Gregor turned to see Sandor.

"What the fuck do you want? Why aren't you with Cersei?" Sandor stammered out about Kevan and Gregor swore. "Fine. Let Kevan handle shit there then. Go follow up with Dusten and Raff about Tommen. I want him found as soon as possible."

Then the giant went back into his cottage carrying Brat with him. Sandor meant to just obey and leave with his commands. And yet, he found himself knocking on his brother's door. A terrible thought had come to him, seeing Petyr leave Gregor's house. And how pissed and desperate Brat had seemed...

Gregor yanked the door open again. This time he had Brat by the hair and she was not fighting but she still looked as if she wanted to kill someone. Sandor blurted out words before his brother could say anything. "Tell me you didn't just marry her?"

Both Gregor and Brat stared at Sandor with wide horrified eyes. "NO!" They both yelled and Gregor slammed the door shut again. Sandor was relieved and concerned all at once but decided not to press his luck further.

 

Polivar whistled as he unlocked the door and turned the light and fan on. "Holy hell...fucking stinks in here. Still having the runs, eh? Well, morphine only can do so much when you are trying to detox from H." A sound of moaning and the scrape of heavy chains across the floor.

Without looking at the nearly cadaverous man on the floor, Polivar turned on the hose and cleaned out the bucket full of waste. "Please, don't! Don't, it hurts too much!" Croaked a faint pleading voice and Loras tried to curl in on himself.

With a sunny grin, Polivar turned the spray on the man then got closer to kick the man. "Stand up and let me get all of you or I'll shove the hose up your ass." Loras cried but stood up and shivered, dribbling piss down his leg as Polivar hosed him down.

"Disgusting, fucking revolting, man. I mean...you make me long for the sweet sight of my Piggy. Next to you, he is a lovely male specimen to behold! Ah, Loras how far you have sunk. I feel bad for you, I do. That is why I have been treating you so well." Polivar set up the IV stand and attached a saline bag to it. 

"You know the drill, Loras. You don't get any morphine until you let me get some hydration in you. I can always come back later..." Polivar chuckled as Loras tried to crawl closer. "No! Please! Don't leave! Here, here!" Loras stuck out his scrawny arm for the needle.

"Such a fuss when you have been shoving needles into your body all along." Polivar was anything but gentle as he forced a half collapsed vein to accept the needle. Loras shuddered as the cold saline began to work it's way through him. "Now, please? Now?"

Polivar sighed and shook his head muttering, "Sickening." He added some morphine into the line and sat in a chair. "Now, feeling a little better, dear?" Loras relaxed his body a little and he nodded.

"Good. Now, answer a few questions for me like a good boy. First, do you remember who you are?" With a sob, the ghoulish prisoner responded. "Loras Tyrell. My sister...Cersei killed her in front of me...just...killed her. Please kill me now." Polivar texted Gregor that Loras was coherent enough for questioning now.

 

Dusten was slogging through muddy ground hoping for more clues as to where Tommen was. Raff was already questioning all those nearby and Sandor was checking with the technician through street camera and store cameras. His cell rang and Dusten hissed when he saw who was calling him. "Why the fuck are you calling me? Do you want to get us both in more trouble?" 

Cersei's voice was tearful and strained. "Dusten? I had to call you...there is no one else for me to call or talk to. Listen, I wasn't using you though I know that is what they must all be telling you. I care for you...but I had to avenge my son, you see that don't you?"

Dusten shut his eyes then bit out, "You used me so you could kill Margeary. Now you want to use me for something else, don't you?"

"No! I will prove to you that its only you that I want...I will walk away from it all right now for you. I will leave all the money and estates, all of it behind if you will just leave with me now. We can go anywhere and start over together."

A bitter smirk and Dusten drawled out, "You would leave it all for me, Cersei? Even your missing son, Tommen? I am looking for him now. And you would rather have me just drop this and meet you so we can run off together? Really? The worst part is I fell for it the first time, even this time, it sounds so real and yet I know it isn't. It hurts that you would treat me so meanly the same way twice. Don't call me again, cousin."

He called Gregor and told him that Cersei called and exactly what was said. Sandor made the same call two minutes later from the tech's office. All Dusten and Cersei's calls are being monitored. Dusten's accounting matched the recording which pleased Gregor, among the other things that were pleasing Gregor today.

 

Gregor smiled until Raff called him a bit later saying he found Tommen's burnt body.


	78. In Raging Defiance

Tommen followed Varys with the blind hope of a teen who has seen too much and wants nothing more than to forget. Tommen told Varys he would rather die than stay with his family anymore and so Varys obliged him. A young boy was found dead that looked very similar to Tommen and was nearly incinerated.

It would suffice long enough to get Tommen away from the North. Varys had booked a private jet for himself and the golden boy. The questions from Tommen about where they were going were met with advice to be patient.

"What if your goal was to kill me and I just let you?" Tommen whispered at one point and Varys gave him a gentle smirk. "My dear boy, if I wanted you dead, you would have been dead long before now. Why would I waste my time taking you far away if only to murder you? Seems pointless and way too much effort."

The plane landed and a limo was waiting for them. It was lovely country but Tommen isn't sure yet where he is but he has a sneaking suspicion. As lovely as the scenery was, Tommen was having trouble breathing. "You took me to HighGarden to Olenna Tyrell?"

Varys patted Tommen's knee. "You are far away from home. Olenna doesn't hurt children anymore than I do. You might be able to even do some good here. You know Olenna and she understands that none of what has happened is your fault. She is as grateful as I am for all your information." The car stopped and Varys managed to coax Tommen out of the car. Then they disappeared into Olenna's garden.

 

Cersei and Sansa were both under Kevan's charge at the Baratheon estate. He has moved in as well as his bodyguards until they leave with Cersei. During a tense dinner, Cersei looked up at her uncle and asked, "Can we at least wait until I am sure Tommen is safe before we leave? I won't give you any trouble until we are on the road. But let me make sure my son is safe before you cart me off."

Kevan sighed and had nodded. "I can be reasonable. You should know your son is safe and have the chance to say goodbye to him. To explain you will see him on vacations, holidays. We will stay until Tommen is home but you are not to leave this estate unless it is to go over to your father's home. Understand?' Cersei agreed.

Sansa cleared her throat and asked, "Once Cersei leaves, are Tommen and I expected to live here or at the Lannister house?" Kevan shrugged. "I don't know. You might wish to ask Tywin or Tyrion about that tomorrow. I understand Tyrion is taking you out to a musical and dinner. That should be quite lovely. I was always fond of my youngest nephew. Very smart boy if a bit misguided. I have twice managed to detox and rehabilitate him, but Tyrion always lapses."

As if conjured, Tyrion entered the dining room. "Sorry to interrupt dinner. Cersei, father would like to see you. Perhaps Uncle Kevan could escort you. I'll stay to keep Sansa company until you return." This was not usual at all and Cersei stood very carefully, studying her brother's hateful little face. She saw a terrible compassion that made Cersei walk on stiffened legs. Kevan held her arm to steady her as they strode across the lawns in the brisk air.  

She stood numb as Kevan held her shoulders and her father coldly informed her that a body was found. It was burnt but it wore Tommen's shoes. Cersei nodded and very calmly spoke. "I am going home now. I want to go my room with my pills and my wine. Once I leave this frozen hellhole I am never returning. I am also never speaking to you again, father." Cersei turned and stared at Kevan with burnt out eyes. "Please take me away from him..from here."

 

Raff, Polivar and Dusten staggered into the Barracks after spending most of their day and night chasing after Tommen's trail. The body has been taken by Qyburn to an associate to run tests but it could take weeks.

Piggy had made sure to keep coffee brewing and food heated for when they entered. In between the domestic work he soothed Samara who had come in hysterical earlier. Her hands had flown all over her scars about how Sansa had spoke and acted.

Samara crawled forth and kissed Raff's boots, not caring if they were covered in mud. Raff told her to kneel up and then he grabbed her chin to look into her eyes. "Free speech, Samara. Tell me about your tea party today." She meekly looked into those eyes she loves/hates/loves and spoke. "I left early, Master. Sansa said she could hide me from you or she could kill you. So I left, Master." 

Raising an eyebrow, Raff smirked. "Did you hear that, gentlemen? Sansa could kill me or she could take away something of mine." Polivar laughed and but Dustin shrugged as he sat down to eat. "Sansa could hire someone to do it. Or poison you like she did Joff. What? Oh, come on...of course she did it. Look at the evidence-"

Raff stepped over Samara and kicked Dusten's chair over. "Shut the fuck up for once! WE WEREN'T ASKED TO LOOK AT THE EVIDENCE. That isn't part of our job. We follow orders, remember? You want to have your fucking paranoia that is fine. But when you are talking about our fucking employers you might want to be a little more careful, huh?"

Polivar got there just as Dusten launched himself at Raff. Samara had dove under the table and away from the fighting as quick as she could. He held Dustin and Raff back with one palm on each heaving chest.

"Hey! We are all fucking tired, alright? Both of you are overreacting and being assholes. And if you think I am overreacting myself, then ask yourselves this. How bad are you both acting that I have become the voice of reason?"

That did give both men pause. "Fuck this." Raff muttered and went to sit in his chair. Before he could even snap his fingers, Samara was there. "You have pleased me today. You were very loyal to leave when Sansa said such terrible lies to you. I won't let her near you again, pet." When Samara brought Raff's food and drink, she wasn't back on her knees. Raff let her sit on his lap again and gave her several bites of food.

Later that evening Raff let Samara sleep on the bed, near the bottom. This was after he brought her to orgasm twice. It amused him how she seemed to love it and despise it all at once. It was of course something that will go away soon enough but it was fun to watch the struggle. Raff found he had always loved to deal with the struggling slaves at work. But it was much more satisfying knowing he would keep her to always see only himself reflected in her eyes.

 

Ronald was the name of the man in front of Cersei's door. This is a distasteful chore to have to hear the vile woman getting high and drunk while grieving for another dead child. It was got him through this night, knowing he had to have tolerance for a grieving mother.

He knew Kevan could help this woman if they only could get her away from all of this. She could never handle power, riches nor could her poisonous relationship with her family members continue.

Kevan had confided in his men as he always does. How it pained him to see how bad things have gotten for his brother and his family. He could at least try to save Cersei if no one else. Though Kevan's men knew that the man will hold out hope for his son forever.

Ronald, Howard and Bill also hoped for such a sweet reunion but felt it wasn't bound to happen this trip. A thump and groan from inside the room caught Ronald's attention. He gave a soft knock and inquired, "Mrs. Baratheon, are you alright?"

When there was no response, Ronald unlocked the door and opened it. He sincerely hoped the woman hasn't overdosed but Tywin had been strict that until she left, Cersei could have her poisons. The second thing the married man hoped was that Cersei wasn't naked or close to.

With a sigh, Ronald found his prayers answered on both accounts. The woman was half on her knees, vomit with wine and pills pooled around her. She was in the bathroom, or close enough.

Ronald shuddered with disgust but who else could help her? Cersei was wearing a bulky bathrobe that was wine stained and it was half soaked in the vomit.

"Let me help you. At least let's get you to the toilet then I can get Sansa to help." He said kindly as Cersei nodded and muttered something about going to throw up again. Ronald hurried to bend to help Cersie stand so he could walk her to the toilet. There was a muffled sound and then Ronald had no thoughts at all.

Cersei let the man drop and she took off the bathrobe. She lurched and finished vomiting. The gun was hanging from her hand as she finished expelling all the wine and pills she took earlier.

Years of flirting with eating disorders gave her the ability to vomit at will. She wiped her mouth off and ripped the robe off. Wearing an old black velvet jumpsuit one of her well meaning children had given her for some mothers day gift, Cersei took her gun and was gone.

 

"We are clear now, aren't we?" Gregor watched the sobbing girl nod her head wearily. "Excellent. Now you may get your ass to bed and be here at first light in line with the others. We are-" A beep sounded from his phone that made Gregor instantly answer it.

Gregor snarled at Brat a moment later to head to bed while she had the chance to. The giant stormed past Brat and got to the Lannisters before she did. He went to the technician first then with a furious headache, he woke up Tywin.

Tywin stared stonily at the image of his only surviving grandchild sitting between Olenna Tyrell and Varys. Tommen didn't look injured but Tywin knew the blade was at the boy's neck even if the boy didn't see it.

"Get the woman on the phone now." His voice cracked like a whip. Gregor bit back the words that he wasn't a fucking secretary. Gregor picked up Tywin's phone and made the call, handing the phone to Tywin as it rang.

"It is rather late for a social call, Tywin." Olenna's voice didn't sound the least bit tired of course.

"What do you want, Olenna?" Tywin snapped.

"Rude as ever, Tywin. Well, you have one of my grandchildren dead by your daughter's hand. The same one you let Sansa frame for the murder of your sadistic, worthless grandson. Forgo any objections, its tiresome. Is Loras still alive and in returnable condition? If so, you return him to me along with the death of your daughter and I'll release Tommen to you. Otherwise, I will simply raise the boy myself and when you die, who will be able to contest that I and my son Mace own your dynasty and the boy? Your drunkard son or the arrogant incest loving one?"

Olenna gave a dry chuckle. "Take some time to think upon it, Tywin."

The line disconnected.

Tywin threw the phone at the desk and rubbed his eyes for a second. He then looked up at the frames along the wall. From paintings to pictures of his ancestors. They always lived wherever his desk was to remind him of the duty, of the sacrifices needed.

"Gregor, send someone to kill Cersei. I want it to look like an accident or suicide. Make it quick and as merciful as you can. I'll tell my brother myself to pull his man from her door. Then tomorrow we can send proof of her death and Loras back to Olenna. Retrieve Tommen."

Gregor growled out, "Sir, Loras confessed to myself and each of the men what he did. He confessed while he was fucked up, he confessed while he sobering up and still now. He let those Wildlings and Northern boys in to slaughter us all. Now I tell my boys his punishment was for us to sober him up to send him back to his family?"

Tywin slowly walked over to Gregor and allowed his eyes to travel upwards until they met Gregor's eyes. "I really should use whomever you get to see to your nails. You can tell your men whatever you would like but you have Cersei dead and Loras alive to be sent home. My grandson is at stake, the last of my line unless Tyrion somehow manages to get Sansa pregnant." 

Tywin called his brother and Gregor stormed out of the room, seething. His anger was too great, he decided to kill Cersei himself before he killed Tywin. When Gregor arrived, the lights were coming on and that wasn't right.

Kevan wouldn't turn on lights knowing someone was coming to murder Cersei. With his pounding headache getting stronger, Gregor ran into the house. Kevan was in a fine rage and despair over the death of one of his sunglasses men. Gregor was only concerned with the fact that Kevan has allowed Cersei to escape.


	79. A Failed Pyramid

Seeing Gregor standing before them grim was not unusual. What was unusual was the greeting.

"This morning we hold our meeting inside the training quarters. Move your asses." They all gave each other looks hoping someone had an answer to this different routine. Forming a line inside the main room, they all found themselves staring at large eraser board.

"All parents say they don't have favorite children, but I do. Whichever one of you pleases me the most is my favorite. And that can change hour to fucking hour with you sad sacks of shit. So let's see where we all are, shall we?"

Gregor grabbed a marker and put at the top Brat's name, then he turned and grinned. "That is a perfect example of how quickly someone can change in my eyes. Yesterday, Brat was still on my favorite list..then she wanted to give me fucking attitude." Gregor crossed out her name but Brat looked almost unfazed.

He scrawled Sandor's name instead. "There is a pretty picture for you men...that Sandor has bested all of you in favoritism." Giving a scathing glare around the room, Gregor let that sink in. Under his brother's name Gregor put Brat's.

Raff's name was written next to Brat's then Gregor shook his head. "Oh no...I had almost forgot. I heard about Sansa being upset after a visit for tea with YOUR FUCKING PET! So not only did I get to deal with Tywin's bullshit yesterday, I had to listen to his brother and that fucking dwarf!" Gregor crossed out Raff's name and rewrote it below Brat's. Then he added Polivar next to Brat's.

Beneath Raff's name he wrote Dusten. Gregor stared at them all with a look of severe disgust. He threw the chalk at Dusten but the roaring was for them all.

"You should be nearly killing yourselves to be at the top of my fucking list! Instead I am receiving mediocrity! Is this all you are going to be? Does the cold air numb your brains, bodies and fucking goals? I am trying my fucking hardest to cover our asses, to make sure we all recieve our due and I can't do that if you are fucking up!" Gregor roared at them all and they all flinched guiltily. 

"Dusten, do you recall that you have a punishment coming? Well, your father has left in a hurry this morning. So before I pass out schedules, let's get straight to your misery. Thanks to your cock, let me explain what has happened. Tommen has been kidnapped until Loras is returned and Cersei has been killed. Except Cersei killed your father's man last night and has gone missing. So here is your punishment, asshole. I want her found and killed by you personally. And then you can be the one to escort Loras home. The man that allowed a near massacre, the man responsible for Tickler's death, for the fires. We must release him back to his grandmother rather than give him the torture and death he deserves."

Dusten was as pale as milk and he was wilting under the stern gaze not just of Gregor but of them all. "I will kill her and return Loras. I am sorry, Sir. I am sorry to all of you, I let you all down and I must fix it."

Nodding, the giant moved on to Polivar. "You will guard Sansa until further notice. And every fucking word anyone says to her I want to know!" Pointing at Raff he said, "You can spend the day helping Brat train. In between training sessions, make sure you check on those workers you have crawling around. I want to see marked improvement in Brat tomorrow or it will be your hide and hers!"  

Gregor stared at his brother and snapped, "Patrol the grounds." Sandor's mouth opened in shock and indignation. "That is a shit job for someone who made the top of your list." The words came out before Sandor could take them back.

Gregor's eyes grew round and shiny like Christmas morning. "And now you have just lost that position by your fucking shitty ass attitude. I don't feel there was any respect in that at all. Not a little, not even a smidgen and I am really reaching for that smidgen...nope..." He punched Sandor so hard in the stomach the man slowly sunk to the ground.

Nearly skipping in glee, Gregor went to cross out Sandor's name then he put it next to Raff. He frowned, "Now that makes me sad, my lackadaisical children. I think incentive is in order, oh yes! Is it time for another rectal hydration treatment? Would that make you all perk up and do better?"

Gregor glared then sneered, "You are all so very lucky that I do not have the time this morning. Get the fuck moving, now!" Gregor grabbed Sandor by his arm. "Not you, asshole. You and I are going to the office."

When Sandor came out he didn't look injured or emotionally shattered. He did look grimmer and a bit worried. Luckily, Raff and Brat were too busy sparring to notice. Dusten has left to track Cersei and Polivar went to be there when Sansa woke up.

 

 

Sansa was dismayed to open her door and see Polivar grinning at her. Thank goodness she decided to dress before going to breakfast. "Am I suddenly so important to still warrant my own bodyguard?" Her voice was joking but her eyes were not, they were irritated.

Polivar's smile grew even wider. "Since you are alone here I will be thrilled to escort you about. I hear that Tywin will have you move into their home until you are married. Then you and Tyrion get this fancy place to yourselves."

Looking about the place, Sansa considered that. "I like that idea better than living with Tywin. I must contact Petyr about redecorating."

 

Cersei fought with the pay phone for a good ten minutes before getting the damned operator. She waited while the operator asked permission to reverse the charges for the call. Jaime's voice never sounded so good to her.

"Jaime, I'm ready to commit to you. We need to run, just us...can you meet me? I'm somewhere in the Riverlands. I don't have enough funds to make it all the way South to you."

"Where do I meet you? I will get some funds for us. I've always wanted this, you know how long I have waited for you to say that to me."

A bitter laugh bubbled from Cersei's dry lips and mouth. "We are twins. I can tell when you are lying and when something is wrong. When did father call you? It figures. I finally commit to something for us and you are the one to back out. I love you and I hate you."

As Jaime tried to beg Cersei not to hang up, to listen to reason, she hung up. Great, he will tell Tywin she is in the Riverlands. Gregor and his merry band of assholes will be after her in moments. Not to mention, probably uncle Kevan and his Agent Smiths. Cersei ran for her life.


	80. Paying The Bloody Dues

Harold and Bob were shaken, truly for the first time shaken. Ronald's death wounded them both but it seemed to nearly destroy Kevan. He already has set up enough funds that Ronald's wife and children will be quite well off financially. And of course all three of them shall help with fatherly duties towards Ronald's children.

"I should have seen how sick, how far gone that woman was." Kevan used his guilt as incentive for them to try and hunt Cersei down before going to tell Ronald's wife she was a widow. 

 

Did they think she was fucking blind?

Cersei was about to leave the small gas station store when she saw her uncle's fancy family safe car go by. The flash of sun on glasses made her wince and she ducked out the back of the store. Forcing herself not to panic Cersei ran up the train tracks, hoping to get back to the tiny motel room she checked into earlier.

Even wearing a black wig and a wool hat as well as a fake name might not have been enough. But Cersei had to go back to retrieve the money she has stolen. It had been years since Cersei had fun playing with pick pocketing and thievery, but she remembered it quite well.

She flew out of the bushes, into the parking lot of the seedy, decrepit building. And as she ran into the lobby, Cersei saw her uncle's sensible vehicle do a very insensible turn through traffic into the parking lot. Flying up the staircase towards a buzzing lit, flickering hallway, Cersei was already calculating her way out.

First to get the money, then out the fire escape, up two floors to the steroid rage lunkheads she deliberately has flirted with in case of fodder. Once she convinces them to keep the men away from her, Cersei will fly out their back door and be gone.

Yanking the door open after frantically turning the key, she ran into her room.

Grabbing the backpack with her money, clothes and gun, Cersei ran for the window. Tossing the bag out ahead of her, Cersei nearly leaped out onto the rusty metal. She could hear the door being smashed open and Cersei felt bile rising in her throat. Faster, they will shoot as soon as they can, she has to get to the other room fast.

Cersei flew up the stairs, breaths coming in desperate sobs of anger and fear. By some miracle, here was the window just as the first shot rang upwards and missed her by inches.

Cersei threw herself at the window of the idiot muscle boys and thanked the gods that the widow was open. She registered the gun just as she was climbing in the window. Before Cersei could attempt to plead, Dusten shot her between the eyes.

The impact knocked her backwards and the men coming up watched the woman plummet down. Kevan sent Harold down to make sure the vile woman was dead as he and Bob continued upwards. Kevan looked at the dead muscle bound young men, all bound, gagged and bullets in their heads. "Did you have to kill them?"

Dusten shrugged. "It was the easiest, quickest route to killing my target. Goodbye, father."

Kevan grabbed his son's arm and pleaded, "Come home with me. Things are falling apart and you will get buried under it all. Please, listen to me for once and save your own damned life."

Staring at his father with deadened eyes he spoke causally. "If Gregor ordered me to kill you, I'd do it just as fast as I killed Cersei. I am the one cause you have lost. You are going to have to deal with that, stop trying to use me to fix your own guilt."

Kevan dropped his son's arm as if he had suddenly had burned him. His men stood in front of him and waited for Dusten to leave first.

 

 

Polivar yawned, bored out of his fucking mind. He knew Sansa was deliberately trying to make him miserable. Everyday she dragged him through the shopping mall for hours and now he is waiting. She is in her room trying every damned thing on that she has bought. The door shut downstairs and Polivar grinned, knowing Brat's footsteps.

"Hey, what's up? Your sister is the most boring fucking human on earth." Polivar arched an eyebrow as Brat handed him her gun and dagger. "I'm going to go visit my older sister." As Arya produced the key she swiped, she entered Sansa's bedroom.

Grinning, Polivar dropped Brat's weapons and went to the door to watch. This might be interesting at least. Sansa had been bent over, brushing out her hair. A hard boot up her ass sent the redhead face-planting in the carpet. Laughing, Polivar called out, "Brat, don't kill her! No broken bones."

Sansa came up grabbing Arya's leg as it was kicking her in the stomach. "Oomph, Ar..ow..fuck, hey wait! Let me explain!" Grimly, Arya forced the girl off her and began to punch in earnest. "You bitch! You backstabbing fucking cunt! Do I look like fucking money to you? Huh? Just like our fucking parents and brothers! How could you?"

Sansa was trying to scuttle away behind the vanity and Arya let her go. "You have a debt, you pay it your fucking self! I was not yours to sell, not anyone's! I will NEVER forgive you. You are not my sister. You are nothing to me."

"Arya, don't say that. Listen to me for a second!"

Arya picked up Sansa's small stool and smashed it into the mirror on top of the vanity. "THAT IS NOT MY NAME!" Sansa pushed to her feet and staggered towards a lamp. Snatching it up and brandishing it, Sansa tried again. "Fine, Brat. Listen...there are benefits to this for you. It helped you as much as it did -"

She ducked as the stool came crashing just above her head.

"THE BENEFITS? YOU FUCKING SOLD ME! WHAT KIND OF BENEFITS DOES A SLAVE GET?" Brat roared and headed towards Sansa with the girl's own desk stapler. Polivar came out of his shock at all this and started forward. "No! Don't staple her, dammit!"

But Sansa threw her lamp and it knocked the stapler out of her sister's hand. "Listen! You are being way too dramatic over this! A slave, really? Jeyne-"

Polivar interrupted Sansa to point out, "Samara."

Sansa glared at him. "Thank you. Samara is a slave. Hotpie-"

"Piggy."

Sansa threw her cell phone at Polivar as hard as she could. "Shut up! Fine! Yes! Piggy and Samara, they are slaves! You just got adopted, how bad is that?"

Brat seemed to slowly turn purple with rage, Polivar watched with fascination as Brat's scar actually seemed to to pulse with it. Her eyes opened so wide that Sansa had the insane urge to cup her hands to catch the orbs when they finally popped out. "I AM FORBIDDEN TO KILL YOU OR OUR FUCKING WHORE UNCLE BUT SO HELP ME, CROSS ME AGAIN...SEE WHAT HAPPENS."

She turned as if to leave then her lower half twisted and her boot seemed to plant itself into Sansa's cervix. With satisfaction, Brat watched her sister crumple down with a scream.    

Brat shoved past a stunned Polivar who had his jaw hanging. He stayed that way until Sansa managed to stagger over and slam the bedroom door in his face. 

 


	81. The Hungry Circle Closes In

Gregor led his crew into the hallway and then into the room that held Loras Tyrell. The narrow, bony face peered up at them all and Loras whimpered at the hate on their faces.

With a cheerful sadism Gregor turned the lights on brightly so that Loras squinted and then he boomed, "Good news, Loras! Great news for you, you are going home to your grandmother. Isn't that lovely? Dusten has killed Cersei to pay for your sister's death and you get to leave alive. Unbroken."

Loras tried to stammer another pathetic apology, his favorite pastime and Gregor shushed him.

"We already have heard it. But before you leave, we want to make sure to give you something to remember us by. Have you ever heard of rectal hydration?" That was only the start of the fun, Gregor allowed them each to have a hand in every torture.

They waterboarded him, they fucked him with ginger root, Raff carefully inserted needles into Loras's toenails while Brat did the same with his fingernails.

As long as they kept themselves in check, Gregor allowed the group to exact their revenge upon Loras. Like any good leader he knew when to discipline and when to reward. There was a good chance they might have at least given objection to giving Loras up safely but they had stayed loyal and obedient.

Even Brat who was still so angry she won't even look at Gregor, she didn't do anything less than her job this week.

While they all waited for Dusten to return, they have all been jumpy, under strain. They felt something coming, they could taste it but they didn't know what it was. Gregor couldn't say anything until Dusten has completed his tasks and returned home.

He needed to let them reduce some steam before they killed each other or someone else.

 

Qyburn has become busier than ever this week.  He saw Sansa and gave her Valium plus painkillers. Then it was over to Gregor's training area to stitch up Brat. Gregor caned her until his stick broke for going inside to fight with Sansa.

The former doctor saw Polivar for a broken nose and Raff for a dislocated shoulder. They were making each other pay the bill since it was their fight that caused their injuries. The slaves were return customers throughout the tense week.

He saw the girl for a flayed ankle for not moving fast enough to suit Raff. Then he saw her two days later when Raff carried her in with a sprained knee. Due to her punishment for not going fast enough, the girl went too fast and fell down the stairs.

Qyburn barely got her out the door before the sobbing boy was brought in. The boy had overcooked the pasta for dinner so Polivar threw it at him, causing second degree burns on his shoulder and chest.

A few days and the boy was back with a concussion and three broken toes, the girl had brought him in. While she was there, Qyburn treated her for a fever and treated the infected ankle with antibiotic.

Gregor letting them all have their way with Loras seemed to help, but the pets remained wary and tense around their Masters. Even Waif has been finding it nearly difficult to please her Master. If this continues and it stops becoming fun, she will simply leave.

 

Dusten returned and was instantly given the skinny, pale and somehow haunted looking frail man. "Get this filth back to his grandmother and get your ass back here." He had been given long enough to shower and change clothing then he dragged the traitor to the car. Dusten warned Loras that if he spoke once he would break his jaw. It was a very long and silent trip. 

The drop off point was at the airport and Dusten followed the exact instructions. Loras had walked calmly forward until he reached the safety of Varys's arms. Then Dusten watched in horror as Tommen snuggled up to Varys as if they were lovers and refuse to leave.

A cell phone call to Gregor prompted more calls. Finally, Dusten watched as Tommen spoke with his grandfather on the phone. He told Tywin he loved Varys, that he was the only person that Tommen could trust. Dusten couldn't persuade the boy otherwise and could do nothing by force in such a public place. He watched as his hopes of not failing yet another thing fall to ashes.

 

Tywin stormed out of his office and headed downstairs. He nearly ran over Tyrion who was entering the house with Sansa. His son fell back into Sansa who was then steadied by Polivar who was behind her. They all watched as Tywin marched out the door and headed towards Gregor's office. Instantly forgetting what it was they were doing there in the first place, they all began to follow with curiosity.

It was quite rare for Tywin to deliberately wander towards Gregor's area and this raised all eyebrows. Sandor actually had to shove them all out of the way to keep up with the angry older man. Surely, Tywin wasn't about to go lecture Gregor in his own space was he? Sandor worried but followed, unable to do anything else. Raff and Brat had been sparring with Gregor giving scathing review when Tywin stormed up to the much larger man.

Turning in surprise, Gregor stared down at Tywin. "Sir? Is there an emergency?" Tywin stared up with utter disgust and barely concealed rage. When he spoke there was thunder in his voice. "Your man failed. He isn't bringing my grandson back! Tommen has been brainwashed by that damned pedophile. Cersei let her last living son get seduced by Varys. And your man is responsible for-"

Gregor took a step forward and cut Tywin off mid-sentence. He will never ever, no Sir, not EVER have this man or any boss dare to speak this way in front of his crew. 

"No. Dusten has killed his former lover and he suffered the disgust of his entire company over his stupidity. But if Varys has Tommen then it is not Dusten's fault. I have in my own damned files that Polivar alerted Cersei twice that Tommen was visiting Varys in his happy place. She did nothing, she told him it was fine that she knew Varys very well. So what else would you like to try and lay at my fucking doorstep, Sir? Or can we take this inside privately?"

Tyrion was holding tightly to Sansa's hand as they watched. The boys and Brat have formed a semi circle that was completed by the awkward married couple.

"Father, take comfort in this. Varys is not what you think. He doesn't molest children, he grooms them to be spies. They recieve hugs and cuddling if they seem to require it but he has never once touched one of them in a sexual way. I know, I go to drink with him enough, I have seen him do it. Back in the South mainly. Here I don't spend as much time with him, of course." 

Tywin wanted to end it, he wanted to icily suggest they go to his office. He did.

But.

Gregor was nearly looming over him, he was glaring, fists clenched at his sides. Tywin had to resist an instant urge to leap up and bite through the large man's neck. Taking a deep breath, Tywin snapped out, "I think perhaps it is time for us to discuss changes we are going to implement and there will be a slight decrease in pay until I see changes!"

Sandor was now standing behind Tywin not to protect but to block him from leaving. Brat came forward at a small glance from Gregor. She stared icily at Tywin but had a hateful smirk on her face. Tywin couldn't believe the disrespect this girl was showing him. Polivar was on one side of Tywin and Raff was on the other. Sansa and Tyrion are hovering just behind the small circle.

"Are you going to allow your girl to be disrespectful to me?" Tywin asked stiffly as if no one was actually closing him in a trap. Gregor gave Brat a hard whack to her head and grumbled, "Knock it the fuck off or the next blow will be my fist." Rubbing her head, Brat whined out, "Yes Sir. I am sorry, Sir for being disrespectful to Mr. Lannister."

Gregor looked back at Tywin and decided he might as well finish it. "You are right, we are going to renegotiate but I don't think we are quite seeing eye to eye on it. I have implemented some changes within our small fucked up family."

With a sickening smile that was so fake it hurt to see, Gregor grabbed Brat and hauled her against his side.

"I am the new father of my adopted daughter, Arya Stark. Petyr never actually gave you the correct papers to be the girl's guardian. They looked believable enough for you and Ned. In reality, I was her guardian and now Petyr has pushed the adoption through. It cost a good amount of money for all the paperwork but luckily I got Arya for free. It was the best debt I have ever filled. You see, Ned and Cat left the house to Arya, their cars and everything in that house that Petyr hasn't already run of with. Also, she now owns three warehouses with her sister. Plus some considerable funds that I will of course use to give this poor creature all that she needs. We must think of the children after all. I have decided that it might be time for us to expand a little."

"You dare to try and take me on? You want to challenge me, Gregor?" Tywin's voice was steel and there was not an ounce of fear upon the man's face.

Gregor shook his head and frowned. "No, of course not. But you dragged us to this fucking forsaken place then treat us like an embarrassment that is necessary. We live in homes hiding behind your looming damned mansion. We have bent over backwards to please you and you are draining us dry. Then you try and pin all your faults on us? I want our relationship to change, Tywin. Before the end of week my crew will be living in that Stark stone mansion. And I think we need to sit down and renegotiate our terms."

With a small chuckle, Tywin looked up at Gregor with amusement.

"So you think that because you got Petyr to fix some papers for you, that means you are ready to be my equal partner? Because you gained a house and some money? You can negotiate with me all you would like, but I will never be anything but your employer. If you cannot handle that any longer than take your gang and go back to the South. Jaime can use your services."

For one second, Tywin thought he was going to die. Gregor had a fierce look upon his face and he wanted badly to kill this arrogant fuck.

Tyrion and Sansa stepped forward into the circle.

"Oh yes, I forgot to tell you father. Sansa and I are moving into the former Baratheon house as of tonight. At least for now, we might do a bit of traveling later on. But right now we are a very busy couple. You see, being Sansa's husband let's me have access to all her funds, regardless of your making her sign shit over. Petyr hid some of it for Sansa and now I am the proud co-owner of all of Stark's business ventures."

Sansa smiled gently at Tywin and her voice was soothing.

"Sir, Gregor and his men have worked for you with loyalty and honor. They deserve the small fortunes that the adoption has given them. Does it matter if they live one house over? He isn't quitting or trying to challenge you. They just want a little more comfort for their efforts. And Tyrion has an amazing head for business. We are looking forward to our first board meeting next week.Tywin glared at the girl who's face was sweet and calm but he saw something rippling just underneath.

"So it is all of you? Petyr must be kept very busy with this greedy circle you have created here. Fine then, move your gang into the Stark's home. I want to see you and the newly married couple in my office in one hour." Gregor nodded and Sandor as well as the others all moved away. Without another word, Tywin turned and walked stiffly back into his home. For the first time it seemed like he was quite old, older than he really is.


	82. Equally Unsteady

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Komodo_dragon
> 
> there are no such thing in our world or this made up one here as fire breathing, flying dragons.  
> the above link is the type of dragon I will reference in this chapter, except as a rare albino version.

Tywin briskly walked towards the hall that led to his large conference room. He stopped to see Gregor and every one of his crew standing before the open door.

"What is this? They cannot all enter this room, I will not have it! In all your years with me, I have never allowed any man but you into this room during a meeting." Tywin looked as if someone had taken a shit, a nice steaming large one, on his foot.

Gregor simply smirked in amusement.

He was wearing a soft silk, carefully tailored suit who was created by the small hands of the overworked children of a Dothraki orphanage for young girls. His shoes were made from real dragon scales and skin, poachers from the sands found this rare baby dragon, just hatched. A rare albino lizard that was considered almost extinct.

They let it grow in a large cage while they put a 24 hour cam on it and started the bidding online through the dark web. Gregor had sent a man to make sure the dragon was real then he began to bid aggressively. When he was the highest bidder, he had the baby dragon killed then the skin and scales were used to make his shoes. 

Waif had polished his head quickly before giving his nails a fast once over and then swiftly and deftly dressing him. Gregor knew he looked good and looked professional, but that didn't change his speech or actions.

"They aren't coming in the room. Not unless I text them because of an emergency. They are going to frisk everyone going into the room." Gregor rumbled and he stood somewhat threateningly, staring at Tywin. Luckily, their staring contest was broken by the arrival of Tyrion and Sansa.

"Oh my, it is everyone!" Sansa exclaimed, going into her polite lady act and Brat rolled her eyes then she gasped, grabbing Sandor's arm. He looked down at her and she fluttered her eyelids. Sandor tried hard not to laugh out loud. Sansa narrowed her eyes but then turned to hear Gregor.

"No one goes in until everyone is frisked for weapons. Starting with me." Gregor assumed the position and let Polivar remove his shoulder holster. He also lost the gun on his ankle and the one hidden in on his lower back. Three blades went away as well.

Tyrion went forward next and grumbled, "If you plan on checking my ass or groin I expect some kind words or a gentle kiss on my forehead." Raff smiled charmingly and then he knelt down. "Don't worry, I have gentle hands." He grinned wider as Tyrion shuddered. "Get it over with." He lost a small pistol on his ankle.

Tywin gave a great sigh before stepping forward and allowing Polivar to search him. He had a handgun and a knife. Sansa came forward and Raff grinned happily as he shoved Tyrion out of his way.

But suddenly Brat was standing in front of Sansa. "I will conduct this search, thanks." The two glared at each other for a moment then Gregor rumbled out. "Enough. Brat will search her." With a snarl, Raff moved away.

With a serious expression Arya searched her sister. Brat found nothing until she got to Sansa's head. "Hey! Don't touch my hair!" Sansa shrieked, as her sister committed the largest female sin possible.

Arya deftly put her fingers into the perfectly crafted pile of red curls upon that lovely head. Brat pulled out a long gold needle, with a very sharp point to it. "I am sure this was just decoration, but just in case, right?" Sansa snarled at her sister then ran to the hall mirror to repair the damage.

 

 

 

Tywin wondered if he were in a coma, maybe he had a heart attack and they saved him, but he is stuck in a coma. Yes, that makes more sense than this meeting.

Because even though he was at the head, the seat he always has had here, the rest looked horribly wrong. Insultingly wrong and he would like to wake from this nightmare now.

The other end of the table, equal to his own seat was his least favorite child. A disgusting, disfigured disappointment in every way. The boy doesn't understand that if he became a king, Tywin wouldn't approve.

Because Tywin is insulted and disappointed by Tyrion's very existence. If he truly wished to please his father, the boy would die.

Gregor sat on the chair in the middle on the right, Sansa on the left. Tywin is sickened and was compelled to speak.

"I cannot decide which I am more insulted by. Having to let a female or my hired enforcer sit at my conference table. At least my son is my blood, that at least makes his disgusting presence tolerable."

Tywin held his chin high and his hands were folded upon the table. But his chin quivered slightly with his indignation and his eyes were wet and frustrated.

He looked at Sansa with her delicately mostly fixed hairdo and her modest but business style dress. His eyes cast over Gregor's expensive suit and then pinned his eyes upon Tyrion.

His suit wasn't fashionable, it certainly couldn't have cost much. It was brown, it was dull and the tie was something that Tywin remembered his own father wearing. A pattern that belonged to a dead time era and really should have stayed dead.

To Tywin it was an insult. His father had a sense of humor, something that skipped Tywin and only seemed to hit his youngest child. Every time his father used humor, Tywin felt he was being teased, he felt it was degrading.

"You are not a child to wear pictures upon your tie. Also, that is a movie I remember my father watching. You couldn't even find something from your own time period? Always trying for a joke and failing, Tyrion."

Gregor shook his head and Sansa leaned forward before her husband could shut his gaping jaw. "Uh, excuse me? Star Wars has been remade. That isn't Darth Vader, that is Kylo Ren."

Tywin glared at Sansa, nearly bristling.

"Young lady, I know these things, my son was obsessed with all this crap most of his sad pitiful life.  My father enjoyed the same movies that passed down to Tyrion, just like that failed humor. Also, my granddaughter dressed to round table role play several times. I saw her dress as Darth Vader and take pictures of herself with a lightsaver!"

Tyrion started to speak then just stopped and sighed. "Let's just move on to the meeting, shall we?"

 

Sandor sat in a chair that threatened to break under his weight. Arya sat in the window embrasure. Both were playing on their cell phones. Polivar leaned against the wall near the meeting room door and Raff sat on the floor.

"So...Sandor? Does this mean you will treat Brat like a little sister? Is it incest then, that you've already fucked her?" Sandor glared at Polivar and Brat muttered, "Aannd here we go."

Polivar and Raff didn't let up on the jokes for at least a good thirty minutes. They heard a roar from inside the room and all went quiet, standing tense, waiting. It didn't happen again and it wasn't related to them. After that they all remained a bit more disciplined.

Stretching, Polivar asked, "Does anyone know how long this shit takes?" Snorting, Arya responded, "Oh, they will be in there all freaking day." Sandor yawned and groaned. "Joy. Let's go out drinking tonight. I need to get out of here for awhile. Clear my damned head of all this shit."

Polivar grinned. "Hey, that's a great idea. I mean that Wildling bar is still open and we have no reason to worry about being in there anymore. And Brat isn't on lock down anymore. We can sneak her in, get her a drink or two. Or we could go to the quarry if Brat is too scared to try a bar?"

 

 

Piggy was washing the inside of the stove when he heard the beeping. "Fuck. Samara! Can you read that for me? Poke me if it's an emergency, okay?" He heard her move and when she didn't come to touch him, he resumed scrubbing it out.

Samara was sharpening knives. That morning the crankiness of the men had reached a peak. Raff managed to find the one knife that didn't cut properly due to it's dullness. He threw his steak and eggs at Piggy then used the dull knife on Samara. Three shallow long cuts on her arm and the order to sharpen every knife in the kitchen.

Polivar came in to see that his own breakfast was late because Piggy was cleaning the steak and eggs off the oven door where they had splattered. Seven whacks with a belt later, Polivar ordered Piggy to scrub every bit of the oven and stove top today.

If they finish early then they are to scour the pots and pans as well.

After Piggy stood up, high from cleaning fumes in a tiny space and cramped beyond belief, he saw the text for himself. Polivar wrote not to cook for more than themselves today. They would not be back until very late. The slaves may go to bed at their normal time and will not be needed until morning.

Piggy and Samara grinned at each other. "Can you fucking believe it? We have a day off. A night off! I mean, yeah, we have to finish our chores first but then...it's just us hanging out. We can make something unhealthy for dinner and watch movies until our eyes fall out!"

Giggling out loud, Samara nodded then her hands flew across her cuts. Piggy spoke her coded words out loud. "Yeah, that sounds awesome! Let's make pizza, our own pizzas with our own damned toppings for dinner."

A single tiny almost not there moment of fear and a feeling of warning hit the loyal and well trained pets but they ignored it. They went back to their work with renewed energy and cheerfulness.


	83. The Quiet Tension

Waif watched Gregor, perplexed. She has never seen him like this not once, she never once saw him unsure. It was a fascinating process to watch the man convince himself of something. To watch how he built himself back up to feeling well.

When he entered the cottage after his meeting, which went on amazingly long, Gregor was tense. He didn't want his tea, his bubble bath, a spa, a massage. Waif was smart enough to keep her mouth shut after her initial offerings and he roared at her like a rabid bear.

Instead, she stayed near but out of his way, simply following in case he was in need of something. It had been a long and boring day on her own and though she did leave for awhile to stretch out, it wasn't very long.

Better to risk injury and follow him about rather than sit bored for longer. Gregor started with his weights and he drank from the water bottle Waif ran to bring without word to her. She padded about on silent bare feet, making sure she had both icy wet and steaming hot towels as well as fluffy dry ones for Gregor.

He chose what he wanted as he moved about the room. After using every machine to a level that would rip most normal men's muscles like snapped elastics, Gregor started floor exercises.

Waif thought of all those sessions she watched from the windows with Gregor's crew. She thought if they saw how hard Gregor was working out they would never again complain of how unfair he was to work them so hard. Compared to what this man was doing, those kids were just having a rough high school gym class.

Gregor showered under freezing cold water when he finally stopped. Waif brought his best bathrobe and Gregor put it on. Then he started to pace the house, no rhyme to it, fists clenching and relaxing.

Following along, Waif was almost surprised when Gregor suddenly stopped in front of a large wall mirror and started to laugh.

Her head snapped up, alarmed to see Gregor was laughing at her in the mirror. "Do you even know you are copying my movements, girl?"

Waif turned bright red and noticed she was walking exactly as Gregor was. It was a habit of her to take other folks' personalities. The problem of many actors and assassins. "Forgive me, Master." Gregor was staring at her as if trying to figure her out and Waif felt a tiny bit nervous.

"I was an actress. The habit is ingrained, I think. I will try not to do it again if it bothers you, Master. It comes out still when I am worried or upset. Something has upset you and it upsets me that anyone would distress you." Waif tried to keep her secrets while offering a truth.

She knew that she couldn't stay forever but it would be dangerous to let Gregor know what she really was. Best if she just disappeared one day. It makes Waif sad to think of it and didn't want it to end right now.

Gregor nodded, searching her face and eyes, seeing only honesty. He did note that there was a mystery to her, but Gregor hasn't patience for such things. As long as she pleases him, she can keep her secrets since they do not impact him or his family.

He doesn't have the sense that Waif is a cause of any impending dangers so why should Gregor care? "I do not mind it, it's cute. Do not do it in front of anyone else. And do not mimic anyone else."

Waif nodded in relief and Gregor started to walk again. This time the walk was slower and he seemed to be in more control now. "Waif, make me some of that new tea you found. I am glad that you are going with those two idiot twin dogs to the store and farm now. One is too stupid and the other is too timid to ask about exotic things, rare or unusual things, like this tea."

Waif brewed the tea and Gregor sat down, looking out the window.

"We move tomorrow over to the Starks house. It will be the Clegane house now. Well, more like a keep once I get in there. We will share the mansion with the whole crew but it is huge enough to barely run into each other. I am taking an entire wing of the house for myself. There will be a few servants, there is no way you, yappy and mute are going to be able to clean that entire monstrosity. Raff will see to the maids for the major upkeep. The chores for the three of you really won't change any. Just the location. The crew is pumped over our taking over a house, a fortune, half of a business and I own the girl. As long as I have Arya, I have everything left to her. And Brat is loyal to her family, her new family. She is mad that I didn't consult her, that her sister didn't ask her first but she is already getting over it."

Waif brought the tea and set it gently before her Master, as she knelt gracefully. He sipped at the tea and absentmindedly stroked her hair.

"Today I managed to do the impossible. I shocked Tywin Lannister and forced him to see us all as equals. He will retaliate, of course. Tywin won't simply go with the flow. The look on his face, he was insulted and angry. To have to see a woman and an employee as equal to himself? He just can't see that, he is too old, too stubborn to accept it. We have to be ready and I warned them. But Tyrion, for all his smarts and for all Sansa's cleverness, they don't see it. Tywin does not lose or settle, this is the first time that I have ever seen him lose and he is not going to stand for it. When he attacks, I may not have the support of Tyrion and Sansa, they might use me as the shield and the patsy if things go wrong. They will sacrifice me and my whole crew in a heartbeat to save themselves."

"I may have just killed us all if this goes sideways." Gregor's voice was heavy and now Waif understood the problem.

"They trust and love you, Master. For a very good reason. You are strong, smart and brutal. You have taught them how to keep safe, to survive anything. They know you would keep them safe and they will have your back. You are doing this not just for yourself but for your family to have a better life and future. That simply makes you a very good leader, Master."

Finishing his tea, Gregor gave a tiny nod then stared out the window again.  He sounded like himself again as he pulled himself straight in his chair and commanded, "Set up the massage oils." Waif gave a tiny relieved smile as she flew to set up her favorite oils.

Waif was humming to herself as she started to heat oils and then she noticed something. A tingle in her arm where the small chip was that allowed another killer within her network to be able to alert her to danger or impending needed information.

Checking fast to make sure Gregor was still in bathroom where he had just gone to, Waif ran to the small statue she bought. It sat on Gregor's mantle in the massage/spa area and he seems to like it. Inside of it held her tiny phone. Grabbing it, sliding it into her ear after she pressed a button. A calm, polite voice advised her that  she was being transferred to a scrambled line.

"Sorry to interrupt you on one of your little vacations. A hit just came down, a really fucking large one on your new boyfriend. Tywin Lannister is offering a damned fortune for the death of the Mountain."

Waif closed her eyes then said quietly, "Thank you, Jaq. Has anyone taken it yet?" 

Snorting, Jaq grumbled, "Everyone wants it, those who are unable to do it alone are willing to team up.  Tywin probably will get the best ones, at least two. He really wants your man dead fast.  You should take off while you can. If you need me to extract you, I can be there tomorrow."

Waif leaned her forehead against the wall.

"I have to go, thank you." Waif disconnected and hid the phone fast with seconds to spare before Gregor came in ready for his massage. 

_What the fuck am I doing?_

Waif had no answer for that.

 

The entire bar looked up at the sight of the Mountain's men and noted the short girl with them, dressed and armed just like them. Every eye hardened upon the sight of the traitor, Arya Stark.

Styr was behind the bar carefully washing mugs and staring at them with dead eyes. "You aren't welcome here. Leave. There is a dump three miles down. It's perfect for you. Get the fuck out."

Polivar tilted his head and grinned widely as he acted confused.

"But..this is a bar, right? Like..with watered down cheap drinks, just like those you have right there. And..oh, old out of date jukebox, yep, oh, and look, customers, which means you are open. Unless you tend to lock your customers in at closing time? Oh, no, wait, you have posted hours. You don't close until two in the morning. So..you don't really have a reason to keep us out. You are a bar. You are open. We are customers looking to drink. It's perfect!"

Styr gave a mirthless grin back and shrugged. "I can give you a legal reason if it helps you feel better about it. How about you are bringing a minor inside a bar? That is Arya Stark and she is fifteen or sixteen. So take your new whore and leave this establishment, gentlemen. Thanks!" He waved cheerily goodbye at them as everyone there laughed, sneering at the little traitor of the North.

The two surviving Stark sisters are hated as traitors. One marrying into the Lannister home at any cost, the other willingly becoming part of a crew that caused the death of so many northerners. Both of them never raising a hand to stop the slaughter of their own family. Arya never felt such hatred towards her before.

Sandor stood behind Brat with his large hand on her right shoulder. Polivar was on her left and he put his elbow on her head to rest as if being an annoying older brother. Raff stood to the right of Brat and smiled charmingly at Styr. His holster was open but his hands were not near it, yet. He was using them to gesture instead as he spoke.

"Surely you can break your strict Northern rules for once? Listen, tonight is actually her sixteenth birthday and she wanted to be with us to celebrate. She is just a little kid, come on, be a pal. Are you always this cruel and cold concerning the youth of the North?" Raff's hand hovered over his gun as two thin, ugly men stood to yell and point wildly.   

"Her birthday isn't for four months! She is only fifteen and too young to be in a bar. I know her age because my younger sisters would be forced to attend some wretched fucking party the Starks would throw for the girl. She would be a cunt to all the entire time. That traitorous cunt isn't old enough to be in this bar. So take your fucking whore and leave. That is what you are, girl! A fucking WHORE! Do you let them all fuck you, Arya?"   

Before Raff could respond to the men, a bullet whizzed past his shoulder and lodged in the wood next to one yelling man's head. That shut both up fast. Now anyone who had a gun had one out.

"My name is Brat. And my last name is Clegane. The Starks are dead.I am no whore, Little Walder! Luthor sit the fuck down, or I swear I will shoot you in your fucking crotch. How dare you complain? You only lost one of your folk, a fat girl you all hated and taunted till the day the poor thing died! And you both are rapists, probably stemming from having a father that is a child molester. Talk about the pot calling the kettle black! Even if I was their whore, it is still more noble than raping poor drunk college girls. Hey, which one of you has to suck the judge's cock after your daddy fixes things for you?"

Sandor clapped a hand over Brat's mouth as the men were yelling in rage and all guns were searching her out. "Okay, shut up now. Points were made, shut up before you get us all killed." Sandor grumbled into Arya's ear. In between her own "brothers" she could see the angry, condemning faces. Ross, Little Walder, his brother Luthor and she saw other Northerners she knew only by their faces. All were united against her.

As soon as Sandor released her mouth she spoke softly, just for her own men to hear. "I'll leave, they will probably let you stay if I go. They have good reason to despise me. My being here will just antagonize them." Raff and Polivar had their guns out and pointed as well. Loudly, Raff replied, "No, Brat, we are going to stay right here. If they feel antagonized or offended by your presence, well, as Gregor would say, they need to pull up their big boy pants and deal with it."

In spite of all the pointed guns, they slowly moved as a group into a booth. Brat and Raff had the wall, Sandor nearly squished Brat as he sat. He was large enough that no one could get a shot past him to Arya. Polivar sat next to Raff and he beckoned cheerfully towards Ros. "Are you the waitress, honey? You kind of look like one. Because, we are sitting here and are awfully thirsty and in need of service."

After a tense standoff, Styr finally gave a sharp resentful nod to Ross. "Not worth it. These fucks aren't even worth the bullet. Everyone put your guns away and next round is on the house for all Northerners. And since Arya Stark is a minor, she is not being served any alcohol."

Polivar smiled brightly, "Well, now. That is a reasonable rule we can agree with. See? We can all be civil."

The bar was quiet as all the men put their weapons away and stared resentfully at the booth while drinking. Sandor saw the look on Polivar's face, the same face from the quarry and he groaned as the waitress approached. Sullenly, with a silence that spoke loudly to Arya, Ross approached. Both were quiet, both passed a look and something in it made the men all look uneasy.

It was a strange dark thing, a woman thing that men cannot understand. Because men do not usually need to worry about certain things as much. But two females, both caught in a room with many dangerous men. The dark look was one that came with a deadly promise. Sandor wished Polivar had never taunted Brat into agreeing to come to this bar.

It was going to end badly, he knew it and so did everyone here.


	84. Collision

Piggy and Samara were laughing, smiling and have not been this relaxed since they can remember. Before this home, the world has gone hazy, as if it was a whole other person, not them. Both just accept this and try not to think of anything before the Barracks. It is much safer and makes things easier to only think of now.

They were going to simply and complete enjoy this extremely rare gift. After the chores were completed, faster than usual, they prepared their pizzas. Samara's had five types of cheese and a lot of it.

Piggy's had a handful of the mixed cheeses from Samara's creation and he added pepperoni. Piggy slid them carefully into the oven and then stood up with a wicked grin. "I say, we pick two movies, we have enough time for it. And...munchies to go with it perhaps?"

Samara trembled a little and shook her head fast. Her fingers flew on her cuts and she contorted a little, making painful clicking noises in her bones and cartilage.

"What do you mean no? Oh, come on, Samara! No, they won't fucking notice! I am careful and I have a small stash of my own. We won't touch anything of theirs, I promise! I'll get the snacks and you can pick the movies. I put a pile together already of ones that we will enjoy. Go through them and pick two, stop worrying!" 

The girl peeked at him through her hair and then folded herself to the floor before turning to crawl towards the living room. Awkward strange crab like movements caused Samara to look like her namesake and the gruesome clicking sound only made it worse.

"And, oh geez...that fucking clicking is getting worse! You need to tell Raff that the dislocations are getting worse. He might just pop them in with no fuss at all. I know you are afraid to bother him about it, but you are clicking. And you look like a fucking vengeful Asian ghost between the hair in your face and the strange contortions to move around. A pony tail and letting Raff know that you keep getting these dislocations, would end this ghost shit. Before Dusten goes apeshit." Piggy grumbled as he watched her leave the room.

Samara stopped and her hands fluttered across cuts on her leg and Piggy sucked in his breath. She went into the living room to go through the movies while Piggy went to get the snacks. Piggy indeed grabbed some of the snacks from the back of the cabinet.

He made sure none of them were something that was Raff's. He tried to forget the disturbing comment her pale fingers spelled out for him.

"Good. Let them fear me."

 

The pets were enjoying snacks, mainly devouring coconut chocolate cookies, Dusten's favorite. They watched I Spit On Your Grave, cheering on the girl fiercely.

At the same time, Dusten was getting pulled over for a broken taillight on a stolen car. His fake I.D. and the license plate he kept on him for such a thing saved him. However, it threw him off his time and then a rumble hit his stomach.

While Samara and Piggy ate their pizzas and threw on House On The Left since they had time for it, Dusten was desperately trying to reach a restroom. He was dancing as he begged an impassive gas station attendant for the key to the bathroom.

"Oh yeah, dude..uh..so like there is a boy and his buddy..they took the key like maybe a few minutes ago. But they will be back, right, so just hang tight, yeah?"

Dusten left and ran to the restroom. There was only one and he could hear the two idiots giggling in there. They were getting stoned and he was going to shit his pants!

He kicked the door hard. "I have a fucking gun and I will shoot through this door if you don't get the fuck out right now. I need that bathroom! Move it you, fucking stoners!" Dusten was seconds from filling his pants and he pulled his gun and cocked it. "I am counting to three then I shoot."

One boy opened the door and stared blearily with red eyes as smoke started to billow out. In disgust, Dusten yanked the boy out of the bathroom and threw him. He pointed his gun at the boy still in there and then tossed him out when the boy remained frozen in fear.

Dusten just made it and held the dirty metal walls as his body violently protested the earlier lunch from a nameless taco stand. Hazy smoke clung to him and made him stoned.

Now he was going to drive slightly impaired, well hell, if that was the case...his night was already sucking even worse then his suck-worthy past week. Might as well end it with a little reward, at least to help him ignore the chills and cramps. Enough to help Dusten forget Cersei's face and his father's voice.

So as his body emptied out his waste, Dusten snorted another kind of shit up his nose. He rarely took coke but this was going to be a bad one, so he brought some. It helped him kill Cersei and stand up to his father. When he returns, as always, Dusten will put it away and not touch the rest for quite some time. Until another bad crisis hits.

Piggy has turned on the music as their second movie ended and they were dancing like silly idiots. Well, at least Piggy was. Samara was able to move a bit to the music but she both physically and mentally couldn't just stand and dance. But she was enjoying it fully, loving the music and laughing at Piggy's antics.

He showed Samara the games he was able to find on the ancient laptop and they played them for awhile, under the table.  They each got a hot cup of coffee and then returned to the living room. In a teasing mood, Piggy grabbed a movie and put it on, grinning.

Once it started and Samara saw what it was, she screamed and punched Piggy's arm playfully, but hard. This ensued a pillow fight all over the living room. They were careful not to make any mess.

Dusten managed to drive almost all the way back before having to stop again. Now he was starving and had to eat. He bought twenty dollars worth of fast food and gobbled it down. It was seven miles later that his stomach reminded him that it wasn't fucking interested in his food intake.

Another gas attendant, luckily this one already had a key. Opening the bathroom door, Dusten nearly cried at the sight of it. His bowels didn't care and cockroaches busily scuttled across his shoes as he emptied himself a second time. He sobbed dryly and then remembered something and started to laugh instead as a terrible smell grew around him.

"Its just like you, Dusten. It is your way of punishing yourself when you sin. Anytime you commit a shameful act, you get ill to your stomach. It is how you know you have done something wrong. Atone and it will go away." His father's voice was soft but insistent in his head. He screamed, "SHUT UP!" The voice stopped and so did his bowels.

One tire blew as he just turned onto the Winterfell area and he felt no cramping, so he breathed slowly. Getting out, Dusten calmly fixed the tire. Anything to keep that fucking voice out of his head. The calmer he remains, the less sick he feels, the less his father's loathsome voice can worm its way inside his head.

Samara and Piggy decided to put on their versions of pajamas that they have simply made for themselves out of clothes no one wanted and old sheets. Orange wide pants that were clearly never meant to be what they are now. Piggy looked like a genie in them and Samara laughed. He wore an old sweatshirt of Gregor's that is permanently stained with blood and paint. He painted over it and it looks like a child drew a mountain and then added a bright sun.

Piggy snorted and chuckled at Samara. She was wearing a long white nightgown made from old sheets. They had been white with small blue spaceships on them. Clearly a joke gift that no one cared for anymore.

"I bet in the dark, you'll look just like the girl from The Ring. You sort of already do. Let's see...come here!" Giggling, Samara followed as Piggy shut off the lights and turned back on the film. He rewound it to the part of the girl climbing out of the well but then accidentally went too far back. "Ah, shit. Oh well, I'll just let it run from here."

Samara ran her fingers along Piggy's arm in the dark as the little boy on the screen did the best acting of his little life.

Sighing, Piggy said, "Yeah, I am thirsty too. Let's get more lemonade then we can compare you to the girl. By then it should be that part. You already do look creepy in the dark. You can't see those spaceships, just the white dress. You had to make it floor length? Well, no. I am covered up too. Sorry, didn't think of it. Even though Tickler is dead, I still can't help but hide myself when I sleep. If I could wear more to bed, I would. I know you would to. Hell, Raff would NEVER let you wear that nightgown."

Dusten stared and just wanted to cry, or maybe set the fucking car on fire. It was out of gas. He had only fixed the tire when the damned thing died. He was hoping to coast the last bit of the way to the old garage they used only a block away. Nope. Sighing, he grabbed anything of his own and abandoned the stolen car and walked home. Running his hands through his hair, Dusten was ready to just sleep and forget the horrible fucking day.   

He quickly typed the code and entered a house that was dark. Except for the flickering of blue from the living room to his left, the murmur of a show playing. Creepy music that sent chills up his spine. With his bowels beginning to cramp again, Dusten warily moved towards the living room. Must be the guys half asleep just staring at the tv but it was so quiet. Shaking his head at his own stupidity, Dusten lunged into the living room then nearly shit himself.

On the screen of the television was that fucking Samara, the movie one climbing out of the fucking well and heading for him. Staggering backwards, Dusten then spun and ran for the kitchen. He knew the house well in the dark luckily otherwise he never would have managed to take the quick turn into the kitchen. Not at the speed he was going. Which is why when he tried to stop while screaming his head off at the sudden sight before him, he slid and fell on his ass.

Samara had been standing there, just like the tv girl and the two have blended now. Dusten had his gun out and she flung herself to the ground and out of his sight. Piggy was standing close by and he had his hands out, palms up beseechingly. "Dusten! It is just us! Just Samara and Piggy! Please! Don't shoot us!"

Dusten stood up shakily as Piggy flicked the lights on. "What the fuck are you doing? I could have fucking KILLED HER AND YOU!" He was still panting and suppressed tears were clogging his throat as he screamed at them.

The girl has crawled under the table nearby and warily seem to watch him even though he could not see her face. He pointed at Samara angrily. "What the fuck are you wearing that for? Since when does Raff let you wear that shit? Where is he? Do your masters know what the fuck you are doing? Huh?" Samara stayed still and silent but Piggy moved slightly closer to answer.

"They are out late tonight celebrating something. We were given the night off. We were watching movies with the lights off. We came to get soda and we made these pajamas out of the laundry room. We are very sorry to scare you, Dusten."

Dusten might have just strapped them, he might have even just called their masters to bitch or just gone to bed. He might have. Then he felt it. In the shock of fear, his bowels gave up the fight and released down his legs. He knew that from Samara's angle she could probably see it. And that is when he snapped. 

He threw the table out of his way and landed on her, punching and screaming. "No! Please! Stop! Don't!" Piggy was screaming and hopping about them. Dusten didn't care, the slave wouldn't dare to attack him. The girl wouldn't fucking beg him though, she remained silent so he decided to fix that. "I will make you speak or I will fucking kill you! I am sick of the fucking nightmares you are giving me, YOU CUNT! I HATE YOU!"

Grabbing her by the hair, Dusten started to drag her towards the back door. He saw Piggy grab the little tinkered to shit phone that just let Piggy give and receive texts to Polivar. Growling he shoved Samara hard into the wall to stun her then dropped her to the floor. Piggy saw him heading for him and true to his nature, surrendered. He dropped the phone and kicked it towards Dusten. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry."

Dusten pointed at him the crooked his finger. "You will come too or I swear when I finish with her, you'll be next. And if you thought Tickler was scary, fucking try me. I'm not into boys, but I will stick this gun up your ass when I shoot you. Now are you going to be a good Piggy and survive tonight?"

Piggy nodded frantically even as he started to cry. "Please don't kill her, please? She can't help not talking! Raff made her that way, don't you see that?" Samara has started to crawl dizzily, trying to get away and Dusten lunged for her again. "You want to live, cunt? Then fucking SPEAK! No? Fine, let's fucking play."

Piggy stumbled after them. Dusten ripped the backdoor open and by her hair, he dragged Samara fast down the steps. She screamed and cried but produced no words. He began to head out of the yard and headed past the shed and past every bit of Lannister land as Piggy followed. He crossed the dirt road and headed into the woods.

Dusten came to a bog and stopped, panting, stumbling to lean against a tree. Piggy tried to touch his shoulder, pleading still and received a backhand for his efforts. Samara was growling, Dusten couldn't believe it, the bitch was growling as if to defend her friend.

"You fucking little bitch, you dare? Oh my GODS! How are you not DEAD? No, course not, because they don't see what you really are...you don't mind showing it to me do you? I will fucking make sure that you will be one feral cunt that will be tamed! You will speak or you will die, your choice."

He kicked her several times then dragged her to stick her head in the water. Holding her head down, he ripped down his pants as she struggled. Yanking her up to let her take a few ragged, choking breaths, Dusten threatened, "SPEAK! Beg me not to drown you while I rape you." Samara tried to catch her breath then shook her head. In a rage, he slammed her head back into the water and pulled up her nightgown. Piggy sobbed and pleaded as Dusten slammed himself inside the drowning girl.

After a few thrusts he yanked up her head again, Samara expelled water and vomit. She heaved and coughed while Dusten raped her. "Speak! I swear to the Gods, I'll kill you." Piggy came closer and shut his eyes, pleading with her now. "Samara, just speak! Raff won't be mad at you for saving your life! One word, just even say please! Anything! Samara, he's going to kill you!"

Piggy was hysterical as Dusten smashed her head down through the water again. This time as he was thrusting, Dusten didn't pull her head back up. He was almost there, if she was still alive after he came he will ask her to speak one last time. If she doesn't he will slit her throat. Her struggles were lessening and this somehow turned him on more. Dusten started to strain into her and fill her when an amazing pain lanced across the back of his head.

As soon as Dusten fell forward, Piggy shoved him over. He pulled Samara out and started to press upon her until water gushed. She coughed and heaved for a few minutes. Then he helped her to her feet and they looked at Dusten. "Oh gods, when he wakes up, he'll kill us both. We have to run back to the barracks and use the laptop to reach Polivar fast."

Samara shook her head and pulled away from Piggy. She grabbed a large boulder and fell to her knees. Piggy whispered, "No..no don't." But it was a weak protest and he knew as well as she did, that if they just told...Dusten would be beaten by the Masters then it would be forgotten. Someday Dusten will get her, get him. Piggy watched as Samara began to beat Dusten's head in. Afterwards, they stared at each other. Now what do they do? How the fuck do they hide this?

Her fingers flew and Piggy turned pale but then he seemed to think on it. They stared at each other with angry eyes that no one else could ever see. Then two bitter smiles formed and they got to work.


	85. Scorching Away The Past

Ros nearly slammed the pitcher of beer down onto the table. Polivar grinned up at her and said, "Thanks, but we three want an unopened bottle of beer. The girl wants a bottle of coke. Leave them with their lids on. We don't want anything you could have spit in or fucked with. You really should have asked us what we wanted first. That's okay, you still haven't lost your tip. Three bottles of beer and one soda, please, honey."

Raff smirked as the woman stared down at Polivar and icily spoke as if she were the Queen of the North. "I am not your honey. My name is Ross. I'll be back with your order." She picked up the tray and started to leave as Polivar quickly leaned forward to grab at her ass. Moving out of the way just in time, Ross snarled at him, "Don't ever touch me." Quickly she went to the bar and whispered to Styr as she set the bottles onto the tray with a bottle opener.

Sandor sighed and shook his head. "One drink then I'm taking off and Brat is going with me. She doesn't need to see where this is gonna go." Polivar opened his eyes wide innocently and Raff shrugged. "I don't know what you mean. Hey, look. Fucking Freys are all leaving, oh, there goes a...what are they?" Brat narrowed her eyes as she watched the men all stare at her with disgust and hate as they left the bar. "Mormont and Tully."

The bar was nearly deserted now except for a few dedicated drinkers that want nothing to do with the drama. They do not look up or react to anything out of their glass. Ross slammed down the tray again and passed out the bottles silently. She bit her lip when Polivar started to compliment her cleavage but then he tried to touch her thigh. "Do not touch me, you fucking asshole!" Ross was holding the tray as if to hit him with it.

Raff spoke softly but with great menace. "I wouldn't strike any of us if I were you. Think of Kyra and Jeyne." Ross lowered the tray and backed off but she spit out, "I do think of them. All the time and my other friends that you've killed too. I think of those poor girls a hell of a lot more than you do." Polivar barked out laughter and kicked Raff under the table companionably. "Hear that? She thinks about Jeyne even more than you do!"

Raff grinned at Ross and drawled out, "Feisty waitress, I think you are under the impression that Jeyne is dead." Ross widened her eyes. "She is alive? Where is she?"

Polivar laughed. "You thought she was hunted like Kyra maybe? Gregor and Roose gave her to Raff here as a little present. He owns her and well, she isn't much like you'd remember. And her name is Samara now. All because she kept trying to stab Raff with a fork. So I really wish you would hit me with that tray. What do you think would happen to you for it?"  

Backing away slowly, Ross muttered, "I didn't hit you with anything. Just don't fucking touch me and we won't have any problems." Polivar just smiled at her until she went behind the counter.

Arya rolled her eyes and asked, "Is there ever a time when you go out and NOT harass everyone around you?" Polivar seemed to think on this, furrowing his brow, even looking over at Raff and Sandor. "I don't think so...at least whenever I am not with Gregor. You guys ever remember me not bullying someone?"

Both men shook their heads and drank their beer. Brat drank her soda and grimaced. "If you are going to be shitheads in here tonight then I think I deserve a real fucking drink, don't you?" Sandor grumbled but gave over his beer when Brat kept pouting at him. "Fine, here. If you get caught by Gregor, I didn't have anything to do with it, hear me?" Brat agreed and chugged the bottle fast before Styr could catch her with the beer.

Polivar and Raff chugged theirs then too after Polivar said brightly, "Perfect idea, Brat! Drink it fast so we can call her back quicker!" Brat glared as the men both began to cheerfully call to Ross for more beer. Styr started to put them on a tray while Ross sat down a lit a smoke. "No. We want the waitress to bring our drinks." Called Polivar with steel in his voice. His hand hovered over his gun as he stared at Styr.

"You folks are going to learn that the old ways are gone. The old money that ran this place is gone. We are here now and we could burn this place the fuck down. This place could suddenly have zoning issues or could be reported for infestation issues that could suddenly occur. So many bad things could happen. Or...you can just accept the new blood and things will go very smoothly for you. Now, the waitress needs to do her fucking job and bring us our drinks."

Styr seemed to think about it for a moment then he turned and went behind the bar. Ross stood up, crushing her smoke and carried the tray over. Ross slammed it down, handed out the drinks with a bitter expression as fast as she could. Polivar moved fast as Ross gave Raff his drink and this time he put his hand fully on her ass cheek and squeezed. Ross didn't even think, it was a knee jerk reaction from being a waitress around drunks for so long.

Her hand cracked against Polivar's face hard as she tried to back away. Arya and Sandor groaned as one as Polivar's face got that still look. Raff was smiling and Ross paled. "I'm sorry...it was a reaction...instinct." Everyone was still and then no one was. Ross screamed as Polivar lunged for her with Raff right behind him. Styr came up from behind the bar with a double barrel shot gun while Sandor and Arya came up with their own guns. One huge boom and a hole blew through the wall behind them as Styr went down with a hole in his forehead.

Sandor stood there making sure none of the other patrons had an issue with the drama. Brat frowned, her shot had gone wide. She was trapped by Sandor's bulk in the booth, Brat went to climb over the table. That is when Polivar and Raff slammed the screaming, fighting girl down onto the table. Brat barely had time to leap back onto the seat.

"Oh come on, you're kidding, right? Sandor, fucking MOVE, I don't want to see this!"

Sandor has not felt particularly charitable towards his former lover and new sister. A quick grin of bright malice as he lightly said, "Sorry, I have to make sure no one sneaks up on us. You aren't squirmish, are you? Thought you could handle being one of us, well, here you go. Us at the ultimate. Enjoy."

Arya tried to close her eyes, to not listen but it didn't, couldn't work. The entire table was pounding and Polivar was grunting, taunting Ross as she screamed and begged for him to stop. Raff's knuckles rapped into the table near Arya as he was holding Ross down for his friend. He'll take a turn next. Will Sandor, just to spite her?

Ross. This is a girl that Arya Stark didn't know very well but she knew her. This was a girl who went out with Jon for a few years, had done a huge science project at school with Sansa that they worked on in the house.

Now here was Ross up on the table, half naked being brutally raped in public. The look in Ross's eyes towards Arya was the same as the eyes of every Northerner, bitter and angry.

When Arya was little and Ross came by for Jon or Sansa, she was nice, would give the little girl candy or gum. Maybe crack a joke or two while waiting in the lobby. Due to her social status, Cat would not allow her to enter past the lobby without an escort. Ross had been nice then, so long ago.

Her scream was suddenly piercing and both Polivar and Raff laughed cruelly at whatever new pain they have caused her.

Brat moved so fast she was hardly aware of her own actions until it was being done. Her blade slid through Ross's neck like butter and Polivar was suddenly sprayed with blood, choking on it. His mouth had been open with laughter and he was leaning directly over her. Raff got sprayed as well. The mean laughter turned to gagged curses and surprised shouts. "What the fuck, bitch? Why? Why would you do that? Worst fucking prank ever!" Sandor started to laugh as Brat just gave Raff and Polivar calm eyes.

"Her screaming hurt my ears. Besides, I'm just having some fun partying. After all, Polivar you taught me how to party, remember?" Brat stared at Polivar and Raff then slid out of the booth. "Next time don't rape someone that fucking close to me, yeah?" Polivar swung at her and she easily side stepped the angry man covered in blood. With his pants down, he couldn't exactly chase her. Grinning, Brat turned to look at the few remaining quiet drunks. "Find a new bar. Now." 

They might have been drunk but they were not stupid. Staggering, only one muttering, they left in a hurry. Arya began to shoot the liquor bottles behind the counter. Sandor did nothing to stop her and the other two ran to the men's room to wash the blood off their faces. Polivar couldn't get the taste out of his mouth. When they came back out of the bathroom the bar was on fire. "Oh, fuck me! I needed another fucking drink, cunt!" Hollered Polivar but Brat just giggled as she left the bar. Sandor shook his head and said, "We created a fucking little monster."

The fire department showed moments after they left but the bar was burnt to the ground.


	86. Taking You Down With Me

Tyrion disconnected and kicked a chair over angrily.

Sansa looked up from the television and sipped her tea. "My sister told me earlier that she was going drinking with boys tonight." He ran his hand through his hair and said, "Is this her first fire or has she been setting them for years?"

Laughing, Sansa replied, "No, she started fights not fires. A tomboy was embarrassing but tolerable. If Arya was lighting fires my parents would have tossed her into the nearest institution until she was cured."

"My father must be gleefully dancing that it was indeed your sister and Gregor's men that did this. Or wait, I should learn how to say that correctly now. So many fucking changes. It was confirmed, it was caught on the phone of a drunk that is now disposed of. Arya and Sandor Clegane as well as Gregor's two men were seen and filmed setting the bar on fire. That was after they were seen and filmed inside the bar. Where Raff and Polivar were raping a waitress that Arya cut the throat of. Sandor shot the bartender in the head. The waitress was a pretty woman named Ross. The bartender's name was Styr. Did you know them?"

Sansa's hand tightened on her teacup and she nodded slowly. "Yes. I knew Ross better than I knew Styr, but I did know them. They were good simple folks." Tyrion sat down next to Sansa but his face was very grim as he stared into the fire. "I sent Bronn out as soon as the fire started and I was told of it." He took Sansa's warm hand after she set down her teacup and she looked at him attentively. "What is it, Tyrion? What else has happened?"

"I had to order the death of three drunks tonight simply because of that sociopath little girl and those fucking apes. My father is fucking dancing, Sansa! This shit has to end if we are going to stay on top! We have to speak with Gregor about this, it can't happen again! We need them to keep control of the town, not destroy it! We can't be blindly arrogant and assume we will win in the end! That is what killed your family and the Boltons. I am a Lannister, I won't go down like that. I hate ordering death, Sansa. Arya might be your sister but I can't allow her to do this again, I won't keep killing for her."

Sansa nodded and patted Tyrion's hand. "We can go speak with Gregor and I will personally talk to my sister if you'd like?"

 

The whole way to the Barracks they bitched at Brat. "Now we have to fucking drink at home. Can't be seen out just in case." Raff bitched as he took the next turn way too fast. "Stupid cunt, next time warn me!" Grumbled Sandor as he accidentally smashed Brat into the car door during the wild turn. Polivar was whining loathsomely from the passenger seat. He was curled up and going between glaring at Raff then Brat.

"Thanks to you, bitch, I have fucking blue balls now. You should either blow me or convince Raff to let me use his pet. I won't hurt her, hell, you can be right there for all I care!" Polivar looked ready to cry. Brat shoved at Sandor. "Get the fuck off me! You are crushing me, asshole!" Once Brat could breathe again, she narrowed her eyes at Polivar. "If you ever try to shove your cock in my mouth I'll remember how much I loved raw hot dogs as a child and bite down hard."

Raff laughed and then shook his head when Polivar gave him a beseeching look. "Forget it. Samara hasn't been bad today, why would I punish her by letting YOU have her?" Polivar started to invite them all to go fuck themselves when Raff nearly got them killed. A car was half in the street just before the cul de sac and Raff had to fishtail not to hit it. He got out after and stormed over to the car. "Who the FUCK left this here? I'm going to disembowel them so slowly."

Polivar took the time to text Piggy while Raff was busy raging at them empty car. He hoped the boy was still awake or woke up hearing the sound of the incoming text. A dark house without snacks set up and someone to serve drinks just sets off a bad vibe to start with. Luckily seconds later he received a response. "Yes, I was still awake. So is Samara. We will have food and drink ready for you, Master." \

Grinning, Polivar yelled to Raff. "Give it the fuck up. If it bothers you that much, call a tow truck. Looks like a stolen car abandoned. No license plate. Let's go home, yeah? I texted, pets are up and are setting up some munchies and drinks. Come on."

 

Entering the Barracks, the warm air assaulted their nostrils and dragged them all forward.Piggy was standing at the stove.

Samara had been at the counter working on something in a pan when they entered. Immediately, the girl dropped to all fours and crawled to Raff's boot to kiss it in submissive greeting. Brat was getting used to this by now and simply skirted on by. Though she did have a tiny shiver at the girl, not due to her strange look or movements but at the new attitude.

Last time it was all just fear and the need to obey and avoid pain. That was still there, apparent in her trembling groveling. But Samara moved and acted as if she were truly a dedicated, affectionate pet and Brat had a feeling it wasn't an act. Brat looked over at Piggy who gave her a friendly but distant grin.

"Hey there, you have lost more weight, gained more muscle. Seems to happen every time I see you." Brat settled on the counter to have a conversation with Piggy while he cooked. To her surprise, Piggy has changed a bit too. The second Polivar sat down, Piggy flew. He left the stove and brought Polivar a beer.

Hard liquor has already been set out as well as Polivar's black box. Brat raised her eyebrows when Polivar gave Piggy a quick jerk of his head. Piggy went to the black box, the one Polivar is so protective of considering it's contents. Piggy quickly punched in the code as well as turned a small key he produced to open it.

The boy seemed to know exactly what to pull out of the box and then he locked the box again. After the drinks and drugs were passed about, Piggy came back to the stove. "Uh, shouldn't you be with your friends, Brat? I really am busy with cooking right now."

After serving her Master a scotch with water, Samara was released to help Piggy in serving food. Brat awkwardly left Piggy and went to sit with the men. "You can sit in my lap." Polivar offered as Brat started to search about for an extra chair. Smiling kindly, Brat invited Polivar to perform an impossible task upon himself.

"Find her a fucking chair." Polivar snapped and Piggy ran to the other room. He carried the desk chair out and set it down for Brat. She thanked Piggy as she sat down. Piggy nodded and smiled at her. "You're welcome, Brat." His face was jolly but there was a distance there now that Brat knew will never change.

Piggy had four different covered pots simmering and the oven was baking casserole dishes that are being lovingly created and cared for by Samara. Polivar looked over at it all then at Piggy. "What the hell did you both do when we left? Instead of resting, watching tv, actually enjoying your time off...you did this? You decided to have a cook off or something?"

Piggy and even Samara under her hair both looked abashed at themselves.

"Samara wouldn't watch tv or play computer games because she didn't have express permission. It was no fun all alone doing that stuff so I chose something we could both do. And it sort of got carried away...we made stew, meat pies and pulled pork for sandwiches. The stew is ready and the rest we will freeze for later meals."

Polivar stared at Piggy for a moment, something was off, something was wrong and he sensed it. "Piggy, you are a shitty liar, you remember I told you that before, dear? Huh?"

Both were frozen and Piggy nearly whispered, "I am not lying to you, Master."

Polivar crooked a finger and beckoned Piggy closer. "You had the energy to cook all these different things half into the night? It's past midnight and the two of you are cooking like you have to feed an army. You are worked fairly hard and by now you would be asleep. Most nights if I drag you up this late for something, you are a stumbling wreck. But you seem fresh as a daisy."

Polivar reached out as Piggy reached him and pulled the boy down by his hair.

"Let me see your eyes, right now. Did you go into my box and get out a little party powder for you and Samara? Is that it, got a little more energy than you thought you would so you cooked it off? Tell your Master, Piggy." But his pet's eyes were as sober as could be. "No Master! I would NEVER! I swear it, Master!" Piggy seemed quite sincere and firm on that.

Polivar's eyes narrowed further. "You are working off guilt, aren't you? What did you do, pet? Might as well confess it now."

Piggy swallowed hard and tears came into his eyes.

"I...I had a cigarette. I tried to shower and gargle to hide it, Master. Samara didn't smoke, she tried to stop me and now she is scared for me. That is why we stayed up and cooked. I'm sorry, Master."

Polivar stared into his pet's eyes for a moment then he backhanded Piggy to the floor. "After I eat, I am going to make you squeal for smoking. Get up and serve the food, Piggy." Shaking his head in disgust, he watched as his pet staggered up. "Yes Master. Sorry, Master."

A huge bowl of stew was set lovingly before Raff. Samara was slightly bold as she knelt there. She dared to very timidly run her face along Raff's thigh and rest her cheek reverently upon it.

To her surprise, he allowed it, his hand came to caress her hair and two fingers slid under her chin to rub there. With a small whimper of delight, Samara leaned into her favorite form of petting and reward. She lay her head on his thigh and watched him eat the stew with bright eyes.

Each of them dug into the stew as Piggy put a bowl of thick homemade bread on the table to sop up the thick broth.

"Piggy, I think this is one of the best things I have ever eaten." Brat said as she asked for seconds. With true joy, Piggy gave them each at least one more bowl and watched them devour it as he continued to cook the other meat laden meals.

Raff lifted his girl's chin. "You have been such a good girl. Up." Samara climbed into Raff's lap to snuggle against him meekly and gratefully.

"Here, have some." He scooped up a large spoonful of stew. Raff was on his third bowl and getting full. Piggy watched as Samara opened her mouth and eagerly took the spoonful. She chewed slowly and gave a faint moan of delight. "Good, isn't it?" Samara nodded and her Master spoon fed her the rest of the bowl of stew.

It really was the best most tender meat in a stew she has ever had. Polivar's mood towards Piggy has been sweetened by the delicious food. "Get yourself some stew and sit on the floor to eat it." Polivar commanded and Piggy eagerly tried his own creation. It was as good as the others said.

Piggy and Samara stared at each other from their positions and wondered if they just gained a new type of food or if they were just damned.

 

The towing company had not only been called by Raff but by the security guards that roam the area. A tow truck showed up and a tired man leaped out and headed for the car. He checked it out first as he always does, in case there is someone to be reached. At least that is what he tells himself and others when he does it.

Of course what he is really doing is hoping to find drugs, money, alcohol, CD's, anything he can take. The trunk was open and Thoros peeked in, hoping for something interesting. 

After groaning, "Oh fuck no." Thoros ran to his truck, boldly labeled "Brothers Towing."

 

 

An hour later, Tywin Lannister called his brother Kevan. He tried very hard to sound sad and somber, he NEEDED Kevan on his side.

"Yes, Tywin?"

Harold and Bob watched with increasing concern as Kevan turned pale then tears began to spill. After he hung up with his brother, Kevan slowly stood up. His pious red rimmed eyes looked upwards and then he fell to his knees.

"They killed my son. My boy...I wanted to save him, I almost had him but they corrupted him. Dusten's head was found in an abandoned car. He was alone, defenseless, the only one working. While the others were drinking and partying, my son was alone and was murdered. They...don't know where the rest of him is...only my son's poor head."

Harold and Bob cried beneath their sunglasses. They cried for the lost boy they remember before the others got hold of him. They mainly cried for their suffering leader. He should not have to know such pain not a man as good as him.

"I want vengeance. I want to find who killed my son. They will pay. So will the rest." Kevan dismissed his men to their families and he spent the night in his chapel thinking of his boy. And thinking of those who made Lancel turn against his father.

 


	87. As We All Land Down Hard Together

Raff and Polivar both had the beginnings of hangovers which the pets rushed to fix. Painkillers, juice, massaging temples. Samara and Piggy gave each other a sympathetic, shared fears glance then flew to get whatever their Masters needed. Whenever they have pain, it is almost a rule that the pets will have twice the pain.

So far Piggy has received a very hard hit with Polliver's boot. As he entered the room his Master threw it with great force and it hit Piggy in the face. As the pet grabbed his bloody nose, his Master accused him of waltzing through the world before finally deciding to move his ass to obey an order to show up. Apologizing, Piggy tried to staunch the blood with his sleeve as he came forward. "You fucking idiot! You are bleeding on me, I'll fucking KILL you!"

Samara knew how Raff would awaken and she prepared. After some time they were all drunk and the pets were forgotten. Both curled under the table while they all joked around and laughed at each other. Above, Brat ended up in an argument with them all over something. Piggy and Samara stared at each other as they slowly put the story together.

Brat killed Ross, Sandor killed Styr, these were people they knew. Jeyne went to school with Ross. She had sleepovers with her and they went to each others parties. They hung out a lot after she started to see Damon. Tears pricked her eyes and Samara was surprised. It didn't seem possible that she would cry for anyone but her Master.

Hotpie had known Ross because she lived near him. Always so nice and ready to listen to him babble at her, Piggy felt a burst of anger at Arya. How could she? Samara leaned her head back and listened further. Then she nodded and her fingers flew for her friend to read. Piggy's eyes followed the pale fingers, two half flayed ones and his eyes narrowed.

He didn't dare use words even though they were all thundering loud above them like angry gods.

Piggy used her scars as Samara does so if she cannot see it under the dark table, she can feel it. "She felt bad about a rape so fixed it by killing her? Makes no sense." With a snarl of frustration Jeyne's fingers flew across her leg and those cuts. She winced as she traced a newer still tender one. "It does make sense. To her. I know her. It is how she thinks. Impulse." Sighing, Piggy decided not to argue it.

"Who cares? Masters are getting drunk. Hangover time coming. They will get in trouble for what they did at the bar. We will suffer. I want them to eat Dusten casserole for dinner tomorrow night. If I am in traction, put it in the oven on 350 degrees." Samara silently laughed and shoved her friend. However, when Piggy started to doze, Samara got to work. She knew everything Raff would demand for a hangover and she was going to be prepared.

Hand towels were ready as were bowls to be filled with hot water. Three pitchers of juice were ready and chilled in the fridge and clean cups already set out. Tylenol and Advil were on the nightstand as well as a pitcher of water full of ice cubes so it will still be cold when Raff wakens. The coffeemaker was set and Samara even remembered to snatch up the bottle of antacids. Carefully, Samara set the alarm to go off on a doze for fifteen extra minutes.

She can use the extra time to set everything up for her Master. For once, she was going to avoid the usual shitstorm. Except five hours after Sandor and Brat staggered back to the Lannisters and the boys went to bed, Gregor texted them. Polivar read the text aloud then swore while screaming for Piggy. "Be in the training rooms in twenty minutes."

Raff had read the text and sighed, hanging his head. Samara had woken as soon as her Master had and she was timidly curling closer to him, but cringing lower at her own daring. Her eyes rolled up and she gave the tiniest whimper. Raff didn't move but he did whisper. "Permission to speak. Do it very softly." Making her voice even quieter than his, Samara spoke. "May I get you some Tylenol or Advil, Master? I can put a hot towel on your head and get you some juice. And massage your temples."

"That would be nice, but fucking Gregor has decided that sleep isn't important anymore. I really hope this is an emergency and not just a fucking sadistic game. Samara, that shit isn't strong enough! Didn't you fucking hear me, I said that Gregor expects us in twenty minutes! Do you think I can deal with Gregor and my very strenuous fucking exercise before working all day on five hours sleep! What the fuck do you think I need? Get painkillers from Polliver now! I thought you were a clever pet!"

Before Samara left to get painkillers, Raff gave her a new bruise. Sobbing, Samara called herself stupid all the way to the kitchen. Piggy was pouring juice as she came in and ran her fingers. "Oh, okay. I'll ask him, come with me. Polliver is in a bad mood, took some of his own pills. I hope they will kick in before I get back up there but I don't think I will be that lucky."

When Samara entered the bedroom, hiding behind Piggy, Polliver was in a better frame of mind.  Piggy spoke for Samara and Polivar gave her a small handful of pills. With the order to tell Raff that payment was due on Friday. Her hand twitched as she leaned closer towards Piggy. Then he leaned over then nodded. "Yes Sir. Thank you, Sir." Piggy said for her and Polliver rolled his eyes. "Go away." Samara fled and gave her Master his pills.

The slaves got their Masters clothing out and helped them put it on. They gave them juice, water and wilted under the verbal abuse. However, whatever the Masters took not only helped their pain but their attitudes lightened. Raff rubbed his fingers under Samara's chin as he got her attention from making sure his sneakers were tied properly.

"Go get coffee ready for me. Good girl." She leaned into the touch and reveled in it, she reveled in the smooth voice calling her good girl. As if it was swelling and would burst, Samara stared up at her Master, pleadingly. "You rarely ask to speak this much. Go on, speak." Samara flinched under the warning tone. _Speaking at all was a great privilege that her Master can remove whenever he wishes. It is a great gift and should not be abused._

Samara stayed very low and made sure her voice was respectful and submissive. But she had to, it had to come out even if it terrified her and a part of her was screaming. "Master, sorry, Master. Please forgive me for using my voice this much. But I had to..tell you..please..." Samara lost her courage and wilted lower, sobbing in fear.

Raff was floating and wasn't going to be late so he smiled patiently. "Hush. I'm not angry with you. Stop crying and tell me what it is." Samara nodded gratefully and tried again. It all came out as if the very words hurt to say and he could see the vulnerable fear upon her face. "I love you, Master. I want to love you." She ducked her head fast, cowering and missed the smirk of triumph on Raff's face. "Come here, Samara."

He kept his voice neutral as the girl inched her way to him. "Good girl. I am so pleased with you for telling me. You are my favorite pet, none of those other slaves could ever please me like you do. I love my favorite little pet." Gasping in relief and delight, Samara trembled and cried harder, clinging to her beloved Master. Raff grinned and took a moment to kiss and feel up his toy before heading out. "Get my coffee, Samara."

Raff laughed when he heard a thud then Piggy whine as Polivar yelled then he appeared. Half disheveled but ready enough, only propelled by painkillers, Polliver staggered forth. After a few tries he was able to navigate the stairs and throw himself into a chair. "Fuck, I was too tired to take two of those fucking pills. Piggy, hurry up with that coffee or I'll skin you!" Polliver started to paw through his black box for something to pep him up.

Piggy and Samara had an actual altercation when both hit the coffee at the same time. "He'll skin me, get out of my way!" Piggy seethed and Samara shook her head. As if Raff would not hurt her twice as bad as that for making him wait for his coffee? She made sure that her hair covered her face from Raff as she mouthed "fuck you!" before trying to shove past him. Gasping in outrage, Piggy tried to block her way and Samara growled deeply at him, crouching a bit. This was no fucking joke, she needed, NEEDED to get Raff's coffee.

Polivar and Raff were both watching this in fascination, trying not to laugh out loud. It was like watching two dogs fighting over a bone. When Samara growled, Raff raised his brows and grinned but Polliver started to look nervous. He still remembered what Damon looked like and how she stood there holding that gun. "If she hurts my Piggy, I get to hurt her." Raff glared at him. "I would compensate you for it and I would punish her myself."

Piggy turned and bared his teeth at her and stuck his face in hers. Samara didn't give an inch, if anything she seemed to suddenly get taller, bigger. Her growl got louder and deeper but Piggy snarled in her face, "Fuck off, cunt. My Master wants his coffee, you and yours can fucking wait." Raff knew Samara's body language and he suddenly snapped out, "No. Do not attack. Good girl. Polliver, did you hear your rude little bitch?"

Polliver was looking at Piggy with hard, glittering eyes and the boy whined, cringing lower. "Master, I'm sorry. I just wanted to obey you and get your coffee. She was trying to-" A hard smack to his head and then another to his face shut him up fast except for cries of pain. "I don't give a fuck what games you and the little ghost girl play. I don't give a fuck if you two wrestle across the house all day for dominance. What I care about is you being rude to your betters. Saying that Raff can just fucking wait is rude, isn't it? Hey! Isn't it? Huh?"

Piggy sobbed and nodded with defeat. "Yes Master, I'm sorry for it. I am very sorry I was rude. Please." Another whack to his aching head and then Polliver's clipped voice. "Go to your knees before Raff and apologize to him. Now." Piggy nearly ran to kneel before Raff, looking only at the ground. "I am very sorry for being rude, Sir." With a sharp, insincere smile Raff responded, "I forgive you, Piggy." Piggy glared at Samara as she passed him with Raff's coffee.

Kevan ordered an eight thousand dollar box for his son's head. With Harold and Bob at his side, Kevan headed back to the hated North. Tywin offered to send Dusten's remains but Kevan said he would come collect his son's head himself. "I will collect more than my son's head." He confided to Harold and Bob.

 

Gregor stood motionless as they began to file in. All of them with bags under reddened eyes. He said nothing until the door was shut and all of them were in a pitiful wavering line.

"I was merciful. I could have called you here last night but I figured you were too drunk still. Now that you are all awake and aware of the world again, I have some news. While you were all out raising hell that we will very much be discussing later on, your brother Dusten was not only murdered, he was decapitated. His head was found in an abandoned car with no license plate just down the road from here. We cannot locate his body. While you were all having your fun, I was trying to find out who would want to kill Dusten."

Polliver shook his head slightly. "Dusten is dead, Sir? Someone removed his head?" He seemed to have some trouble with this. Raff looked sick. Sandor was red with shame and Brat felt guilt weigh upon her. "Any clues who did it, Sir?" Asked Raff.

Gregor looked grimmer. "Not yet. But I will fucking find out and they will pay." He pinned each of them with a look of disgust as he slowly began to pace before them. Gregor's hands were clasped behind his back.

"I heard you guys had some real fun last night. Celebrating our newfound power base. I understand that. I do. Really." Gregor looked earnestly at each of them, nodding for emphasis. Then he furrowed his brow and looked confused.

"Here is what I am having some trouble with. You celebrated our power over this town by burning one of it's oldest bars. You murdered two long standing, popular residents. Now this doesn't matter to the upper classes, but it will anger the townsfolk. The working class and those who can't even manage to hold a job can hold a fucking grudge. We can't have the folks rioting because we are pushing them too far. I don't need rabid dogs! I need fucking professionals!"

Gregor pinned Polliver with his eyes. "You. Couldn't keep your fucking dick in your pants? You can't go out for a drink without raping someone? You can't attend a party without killing someone and now you can't drink unless you rape someone? Perhaps you need to stop partying and drinking, Polliver." His voice was calm but Gregor's hand on Polliver's throat slowly lifting him into the air told a different story.

"I am going to make you pay for it. The whole thing was started because of your cock. I gave true thought to castrating you, boy." Polliver began to faint and Gregor dropped him. Taking large breaths in a high pitched whooping sound, Polliver was desperately trying to beg Gregor not to castrate him. "Shut the fuck up!" Gregor kicked Polliver and the man went quiet instantly. "You will have another punishment instead. But if this ever happens again, I will rip it off myself!"

Walking away from the collapsed man that was now sobbing in relief, Gregor went for Raff.

For one second, it looked like the handsome, arrogant sadist would bolt but he didn't. Then it looked more like he wanted to kneel and grovel as Gregor descended upon him. "And what the fuck happened with you? I thought I GAVE you a fuck toy? Is she already that boring? Your cock was so interested that you couldn't notice that Brat was there? It didn't occur what might happen if you raped a girl in front of her. I don't mean to startle you or anything, but in case you can't tell, BRAT IS A FUCKING FEMALE! They don't take well to anyone raping other females."

Raff was bent nearly in half as he was leaning backwards as Gregor leaned upon him. A fine sheen of spittle was all over Raff's fine boned features and he was only thankful he wasn't being snapped in half. "I mean, how stupid can you be? So you can enjoy a nice bit of my special hydration process. I am very disappointed in you, Raff. You were doing so well there for a while. Really breaks my heart to see you fall so low." Gregor stood up straight up and ignored Raff's stunned, hurt face. It was filling red with shame and guilt. Gregor was right and Raff knew it.

Sandor refused to cower even as his brother loomed over him. "I had to shoot Styr in the head, Sir. He was about to put a hole in your shiny new daughter. Would you rather I just let him kill her? And we had to burn the bar down after two murders occurred in it." Gregor didn't seem to care for those excuses nor the disrespect. At least that seems to be why Gregor punched his brother in face hard enough to knock him down. Gregor rotated his shoulders then calmly knelt beside his brother. He cradled Sandor's head as his brother choked on his own blood.

"Sweet stupid brother. Jealousy looks so stupid on you, you really need to get the fuck over it. You'll find another bit of tail soon enough. And her dynasty brings us ours, so what is the problem in that? You need to grow the fuck up, boy. You were pouting and therefore you let Brat be in a situation you knew she couldn't handle. So you are going to suffer along with your comrades. Except you will each have your own unique punishments. That is why I wanted you all to show early, so we would have plenty of time for your punishments."

Gregor got a water bottle that was sitting by his desk. He brought it to Polliver. "Drink it, you look too pale. I will be pissed if you faint, so fucking drink it. All of it." Polliver took the bottle with shaking hands and began to sip the water.

Gregor walked over to Brat who got smaller and smaller as he approached. "You need to learn restraint and patience. You need to learn social skills. Funny, I would have thought Cat and Ned would have taught that shit. Then again, you are a spoiled fucking brat like all Stark children. So since the boys were doing something you didn't like, you broke their toy so they couldn't have any fun at all. A childish reaction and deserves a child's punishment. So let's start with you. Daddy's little Princess was being a naughty, mean little girl. Let's take care of that."

Sandor, Pollivar and even Raff winced as Gregor mercilessly spanked Brat's bared bottom with his large, heavy hand. Her ass was black and blue and her voice was hoarse from screaming before he stopped. "You'll be eating your meals standing for a month or so. I hope that helps you remember that your new daddy doesn't put up with spoiled little shits. Now go stand back in line, Arya." In spite of the hideous pain in her backside, Brat was floored by the name. How could she have fallen so low to warrant her old name to be used?

Slinking back to her place, gritting her teeth as she tried to pull her jogging pants into place, Brat kept her eyes down.

Gregor grabbed Raff next and yanked him over to a hook hanging from the ceiling. Raff moaned but didn't dare to do anything but comply and allow Gregor to cuff his wrists and allow the chain between them to hang off the hook. He feet barely touched the ground and Raff felt stretched out painfully already. "You decided to just..what? Enjoy a little rape with your buddies? Didn't even attempt to allow your mind to think about consequences. Well, I hope acting like a horny fucking teen was worth it because I am going treat you like one. A child gets a spanking. What should a teen get?"

The answer was a ruthless strapping with a thick belt. Gregor had yanked Raff's pants down to his ankles and then set to work. With good cheer and whistling a jaunty tune, the giant whipped the leather across Raff's ass and thighs, sweeping down to his calves before going back up again. When Raff could no longer scream, Gregor stopped and released him. Raff struggled to pull up his sweatpants then he shambled painfully to stand back in line.

Gregor beckoned to Sandor and when his brother reluctantly walked over, Gregor smiled. "You are acting like a jealous fucking whore and you KNOW how I feel about that. So I can't do to you what I do to jealous whores, but I can make it feel like I am." Gregor whipped his brother's back and ass until both were criss cross with bloody lines. Sandor roared in pain at the last few lashes. He was next for the shame shamble back to his place.

"Polliver, I saved you for the last because as I said, this is a special punishment for you."


	88. Charging Ahead with A Working Attitude

Tywin walked into his plush office and waited for his secretary to bring him his coffee and the days roster of events. He was typing away on his computer when she finally entered, setting down his coffee.

"You have an emergency ten o'clock meeting about an absorption of companies into Lannister Corporations. It is being disputed by uh..your son and daughter in law. And..Mr. Clegane..the security guard?"

She had nearly shrieked as she read that out loud. In all her years working for Mr. Lannister, never has she seen such a thing. Why would Tywin's son and bodyguard be working against him?

"Forgive me, Sir.If you need me I shall be at my desk." In quick embarrassed movements, Helen put down the items in her hands for Tywin to go through and sign later, then she fled the room.

Shutting his eyes for patience, Tywin wondered when the hits would be completed.

 

Tyrion was at one company while Sansa was at another.

Sansa was armed with Petyr and Tyrion was armed with his own intelligence and shrewdness. They had fired half the top staff, any and all of Tywin's cronies, all those in his pocket in the lower sections as well. 

This earned some favor from those that suffered under Tywin's men. Policies were instantly changed.

Sansa stood before all the employees that were summoned to the main conference room.

"For now on, there will be a full two month paid maternity leave for any woman here, whether full time or part time. We will offer a nursing area in this office building for all women to use as well as a daycare center. All employees may make use of this daycare center. Human Resources is going to be creating new rules and setting new standards. Any harassment of any kind will not be tolerated anymore. If you are full time, you will recieve the correct pay as well as full benefits. If you are part time, you will not be given thirty nine hours a week any longer. We shall have everyone's shifts looked at, pay and benefits adjustments will be made, some of you may even switch to jobs more suited to your talents. Even if you are part time, we will have a smaller benefits package for you. This is no longer a place of dreary overlords beating down their slaves. It is a company full of talented employees that can enjoy their work knowing they are actually valued."

Sansa won all the woman and all of the employees below her. However, many were left that hated Tywin but were set in their ways or too protective of their own status that still opposed her silently. Petyr watched them with narrowed eyes and knew that Sansa's hold here was not secure yet.

He made sure that Polliver was right near Sansa at all times. The guard was doing his job even if he did look pale and tired, haunted somehow.

 

Tyrion used laughter, similar fair laws within his talk to the employees of the company he took charge of. Having Sandor looming just behind him made them all a little uneasy.

"Well, someone had to throw those old fucks out of here and as you can tell, it would have taken me some time to get them out. So far down to drag them, you know?" This made them all clap and cheer. "This large man who is scowling at you to scare you half to death is Sandor. He is not here to hurt anyone that isn't trying to hurt me or anyone else." 

"Take a look at me. Do I look like I am going to tolerate harassment, unfair or bias treatment? I don't care if you are male, female, gay, straight, transgender, religious, into ghosts or write blogs on alien conspiracy theories. I don't care what race you are, if you are a pregnant, married, single, adopted, widowed, I do not care as long you do your job. Everything here is going to be tossed and new rules are coming in their place. It will be fair. I expect there will be many promotions, raises, demotions and openings for hire by the time we are finished changing things. Some of you are terrified of this change, I understand and appreciate that. I want you to know if you are too set in your ways, maybe you should leave now and save us the trouble. We shall be modern, we shall be a place of growth and opportunity for our employees, not just the clients."

Tyrion had everyone but the ones who were indeed set in their ways and Sandor kept his eye on them.

 

Gregor entered each warehouse along with Raff and Brat. His take over of the warehouses were not quite done as nicely nor as neatly. However, the results did come out the same.

Brat beat the shit out of one overseer that was making an extremely pregnant young woman lift heavy sacks. The woman had also been denied the use of the bathroom as well as no lunch or break. 

Gregor was truly appalled at how bad the conditions were for the workers. He gave the same speech in each warehouse to the same scared groups of workers.

"Everyone throw out your urine bottles and diapers. No more of this shit. Today I threw out the most corrupt here. Tomorrow we go through the rest of you. I don't care what you speak, where or how you live. I only care if you do your job, if you could do another job better. We are fixing conditions for you in here. Better ventilation, fair rights for everyone. Reasonable shifts and benefits. If you need the bathroom, use it. If you have been working four hours or more...take a break or a lunch. By tomorrow we will have new rules listed on the walls for you. We can put one in your break room...you don't have one?" The employees all shrugged or just stared at him, deadpan.

"Well, who has work that can fucking wait? Anyone who does can take apart those two offices there. Yeah, already kicked those two fuckers out. Take those two offices and make a break room out of it. You can build it yourselves, right? Or do you need me to call in fancy folks to tell YOU want YOU want? Seems to me like you guys have had to swallow enough of that bullshit. So what do you say?"

With a cheer, the employees set to work on creating their own rest area. The pregnant lady was the first one to start breaking the office walls down with joy.   

 

Piggy, Samara and Waif were covered in sweat, they packed and moved things into the former Stark mansion.

The Masters usually take out on their pets whatever punishments they received during their morning exercise meeting with Gregor. Not today, instead they each came in pale and troubled. They showered and changed for work. Both in casual business suits, they quietly ate breakfast, drank their coffee. Both moved stiffly as if they were in pain and both of them were rummaging in the black box. 

"You will spend the day packing and moving everything you can to the Stark home. We will take care of the really heavy furniture ourselves, but I expect you two to get as much done as you can." Raff ordered and both pets nodded. Piggy gave his Master a worried glance but Polliver continued to play with his food.

"Gregor's slave will be packing and moving his stuff. You will run into her. If you need assistance with lifting something, you can ask her. Her name is Waif. If she asks you for help, you will of course, help her. Understand? And no biting, fighting and growling at each other. We don't have time for that shit today. Gregor wants everyone moved in two days."

So the pets have been hard at work. First they packed the entire house, starting with their own Masters' rooms. Once everything was boxed, they began to carry the boxes to the mansion. There they met Waif. One look into her eyes had Piggy and Samara backing up. "You aren't a slave. Your eyes..they aren't the same..oh gods, don't kill us. If you are a double agent or something..we don't know anything. Really!"

Waif was utterly amused and fascinated with Piggy and Samara. It took her a good half hour to get Piggy to not jump when she went by him. Samara did not seem to fear her, she was more curious and perhaps even jealous. They were all sitting for a fast lunch in the yard.

"How are you able to look and be such a perfect slave?" Piggy asked. "Sorry, its not me asking, I don't care. But Samara does. She wants to know."

With a sympathetic look at Samara, Waif replied. "It's a talent of mine. I'm afraid I cannot teach another. It is my nature to have perfection in my acting. You my dear, you do the best you can and it seems to please your Master. If you were suddenly acting like me, don't you think that would disturb rather than please your Master? After all, he chose you, not me. He must like the way you already act now." Samara thought on this and then nodded. 

They did not speak again until it was late afternoon.

"Are you here to kill our Masters?" Waif looked over at Piggy and Samara with a small laugh. "No. I already had my kill done a while back. I just like Gregor, I guess it was kind of a vacation for me." The two stared at her as if Waif had just tap danced for them then blew up into a million pieces of candy corn.

"You...you are a slave because it is fun? A vacation? You can leave anytime and you don't?" Piggy asked incredulously. Waif shrugged then went back to work, ignoring the two staring at her as if she were crazy.

 

Loras sobbed as his grandmother's rings cut through the tender flesh of his face. It was rare for Olenna to hit anyone. Even rarer for her to hit a pretty face.

"Disgraceful, disgusting, what kind of brother are you? You were supposed to protect and care for your sister! Margeary loved you, there was no one in the world more important to her than you! Even I did not matter as much as you did! And look at you! Look what you have done! She died because of you and that cunt Sansa! You should have been warning Margeary, you should have BEEN THERE TO SEE IT COMING! That is what you two were good at, remember? You are lucky I rescued you at all."

Loras remained on his knees holding his bleeding face as Olenna let a servant wash the blood off her hand. She waved them away, ordering tea and Olenna leaned back in her chair. Staring down at her shattered grandson, Olenna shared a glance with Varys. With a heavy sigh, Olenna rested on hand upon Loras's head. Breaking down into heartbroken sobs, Loras began to beg for forgiveness.

"You will go to a rehab of my choosing. You will regain sobriety and sanity. Then you will marry a person of my choosing and you will take a career path of my choosing. It is clear that the only thing keeping you alive at all was your sister. I will not fail her memory by allowing you to ruin your life."

Loras nodded and crumpled down at Olenna's feet like he and his sister did as children. "Margeary told Sansa the eye drops story weeks ago. She told me of it when she got home that night. Sansa framed Margeary and they all knew it. All of them, you could see it in their eyes."

Olenna blinked, feeling a slight burning in her eyes and patted Loras's head.

"I know dear. It was convenient for them. They needed Sansa still, but they didn't need Margeary, she was expendable. But Cersei, she believed it because if she thought for a second it was Joff's little fiance, she would have ripped her ginger head off and flung it across the room. That makes me angriest. Cersei only killed my darling girl because she believed Sansa and Tywin. They are to blame both of them. And I promise you that they will pay, Loras. But you are not going to be a part of it. No dear, you have a plane to catch. You are going to a very special rehab in Braavos."

Varys had put the request out for a hit on both Tywin and Sansa Lannister last night upon Olenna's order.


	89. Spiders

Tommen gasped as Varys's tongue flicked gently along his nipples. "Are you sure you are ready for more than what we've done? I want to let you decide and be in control of your own body."

A small smile and eyes fluttered with sensations as Tommen breathed, "I want to try everything. I'll tell you if it scares or hurts me, Varys. Just please, don't stop now. I hate it when you stop and ask if I want to keep going. We can make a safe word, maybe? That way you don't need to worry about it?"

Varys looked surprised then admiring. "See, that is what I mean. Using your brain to keep yourself safe. Perfect, a safe word. Let's pick something you would never say. That way if you say no, or stop I will know you just want me to convince you but if you say the word I know to stop right away. What word do you want to use, Tommen?"

Pleased with himself for learning another lesson for Varys, always find a way to keep yourself safe. "Uh...a word I would never use? Exterminate." With a chuckle, squeezing the boy, Varys said, "That is a perfect word. Dr. Who won't mind but the Daleks might."

He made sure he kept up with all the things these kids like. From sports, to music, movies, games, Varys can always know enough to have a conversation about it. Varys was firm in his oath to never hurt or kill his children.

Very few, just a rare few has he allowed himself to groom in a sexual manner. But some of them just seemed to almost beg for it. Children that are meek and do not understand the power and wealth they hold, that there families hold. Varys teaches them a different way, that is all really. 

Craster's eight girls were such a temptation. He knew the terrible things that sick excuse for a father did to them. Picture and videos on the internet! A cam that allows the viewer to watch him abuse the girls. Craster's first wife was only thirteen with permission from her parents who needed Craster's money more than their pretty little daughter. When she died after the fifth babe, he married her little sister.

That wife was only twelve with parental permission. She gave him another two children. He forced his wives to participate sometimes, to hold a squirming girl down or to perform sexual acts with them or Craster. Her second child was a boy and Craster forced her to put it up for adoption. The next day after that the wife watched as Craster began to molest their eight month year old daughter and she snapped.

That night she took her baby in her arms, all swaddled and leaped from the third story window.

Craster married his dead wives cousin six months later. She was eleven and half. It took her two years before she gave him more girls. As the daughters got old enough, he bred them. The man also sold some of his girls off to his friends as wives. Other girls he simply rented out for pleasure.

Some of his daughters wandered into Varys's sanctuary for children. Most simply did as the others did and gave information for rewards and the use of a safe place.

One of those girls she was so fragile and had such large puppy dog trusting eyes. A girl that screamed prey. Kind of like how Tommen always looks. Varys couldn't help himself as the girl kept hanging about him whenever he was around. She responded well to his touch, snuggling into his lap.

The more he told her kind things, the more he built her confidence the further the girl would beg to go. He taught her how to hide from her father, how to evade him. He taught her to have self esteem and use her body for her own pleasure as well as a weapon.

For about six months Varys taught and played with the girl. One night she was laying spread out naked on the bed with Vary's fingers jack hammering inside her while his tongue flickered on her clit. Moaning and squirming, the girl nearly missed the expressionless girl in the doorway of Varys's private apartment.

"Varys! Someone is here!" She yelled as she tried to pull away. Instantly, Varys allowed her to leave his hands even though he never said a safe word. Varys looked up and smiled.

"Don't panic, sweetheart. It is a friend of mine. Listen, we discussed getting you away from your father, remember? As much as I love your touch, your friendship and your whispers, we need to free you from your father. You have a rebellious streak in you and I don't want to see your father blow it out forever."

Sadly, Varys had stroked a finger gently over a large bruise on the girl's cheek. "No nine year old girl should go through what you have. I cannot save all your sisters or your mother but I can save you. Offer you something safer, better, dear."

"Listen, lovely little girl. This friend of mine is very safe and nice. She can offer you a safe place to live and teach you how to use your whole self as a weapon. I will visit you when I can. You are going to grow up pretty and deadly. No one will ever hurt you again, you will do the hurting."

The girl hugged Varys and cried but she took the lady's hand. Anything was better than her father. Varys cried a little after the girl left, but he knew his sacrifice was worth it. That girl deserved to have a brighter future than fucking and breeding for her father.

And Gods know, A Waif's Home will teach her everything that girl needs. Someday, she will go and kill her own father. On the surface to the world it is a charity home for anyone up to the age nineteen. To those on the inside of bad things, it also a very high priced brothel. However it is a rather unique one.

The younger children may be watched as they perform acts upon themselves, each other or one of the staff, but it is up to the child to choose. They can be watched behind glass or directly in front of the clients. Again, their choice.

The older ones may choose to service a client if they wish and only as they want to. They are being taught to use their bodies as a dominant, seductive thing. They are taught while the client is so distracted by the boy or girl's body and talents, they are now soft and weak.

Extracting information, stealing things, these are expected of the children during training.

The children do actually attend a small school with three teachers so they can all get their G.E.D. at eighteen. They also have field trips and free time to play so the social world is happy to give more money and sometimes it gets some of the kids adopted.

However, when the doors are locked the huge gym turns a little different. The children are not there for sports. They are there to learn to fight, to defend themselves and hurt or kill others. They are taught to shoot, to stab, to sneak, stalk and kill.

Varys had breathed a sigh of relief when he gave his little girl prize to the Home. It was exactly what the girl needed.

Now Varys licks his way down Tommen's naked body, trying to determine what this boy needed.


	90. Bitter Coffee To Swallow Down

Sansa sat across from Gregor as they waited for Tywin and Tyrion to show up. The receptionist gave them each coffee then left shutting the door behind her.

As Sansa sipped her coffee and watched him, her mind cast to years back when she first met Gregor Clegane. Grinning, she looked at him and he raised an eyebrow. "What?"

"Do you you remember when we first met?" Gregor rolled his eyes and smirked at her. "Yes, dear. I do and I remember exactly what you said. Go on and get the I told you so over with. But just remember everything I said back to you."  Sansa rolled her eyes now. "I was right, wasn't I? I showed you that I meant it, didn't I?"

Gregor shook his head and looked at her with a mix of pity and respect. 

"I think you are fucking crazy, that is what I fucking think of you. To let Joff do that shit to you...did you really act the whole time? Or are you human enough to have really felt the fear of losing your mind, if not your life? But you were right, you did everything and anything. But you aren't invincible, you know that right? It was because of ME that you were spared worse, Sansa. If Tickler hadn't kept Joff busy, if Raff hadn't provided those slaves..."

Sansa glared at Gregor.

"They nearly failed several times. Tickler didn't notice that Joff had a fucking Pear of Anguish? How doesn't he notice THAT missing from his little torture chamber? I nearly bled out, remember? And yes, I had fear and pain and I was going crazy. All I read about Stockholm syndrome helped, but I still fell into it a few times. And you were paid in full for ALL your services to me, weren't you? Aren't you part of this take over? I gave you my own damned little sister and my house! You have a fortune and I have a sister who hates me! Let's stop discussing the past now. I'm sorry I brought it up."

Gregor nodded stiffly. He was in complete agreement.

Sansa cleared her throat and tried again. "What we discussed, the other thing, it hasn't been done yet." Smiling with malice, Gregor drawled out, "Well, it really wasn't too clear for me, precious princess. I couldn't tell if you were asking a favor with which what do you have to bargain with? You are too greedy to give up much else. Or is this more of a piece of our partnership, in that case, Tyrion must be involved. We are equal partners, all of us. Remember, Your Highness?" 

"I always hated it when you did that. I hate it now when you say it to me. You know that. I thought it would be better if Tyrion didn't know of it. Plausible deniability." Sansa sipped her coffee and regained her composure. For a moment, she had been shaken and it angered her. The "I Told You So" game was always so fun until Gregor would ruin it.He always did jut like every other male asshole she has known.

Which is really why she doesn't want to reveal too much to Tyrion. He was a really nice man and Sansa didn't want to hurt him. When and if she decides to kill him, it would be quick and painless. Tyrion was such a gentlemen to her and supportive, allowing her to take equal leadership of most things. Sansa liked him and for now, he was a good partner. She sort of hoped it could stay that way. Gregor grumbled out, "It will be taken care of soon enough. And then you will owe me another debt, won't you? I wonder what you are willing to sacrifice next?"

 

Tyrion walked with confidence towards the conference room in his father's tower. His tower as well now. And Sansa's. And Gregor's. A hit-man and bodyguard for gods sake! But that is what it took to get here and it was going to be worth it. Already most of the employees in the companies worship him or his wife or both.

The warehouses might have gone a little smoother but the same result happened once Raff jumped in. After Gregor's speech and Brat's violence, Raff's charms were in immediate need. Raff had them all in the palm of his hand by the end of the day. Tyrion had no idea what magic Raff used, he just cared that it worked. Tyrion plans to suggest to Gregor that while he do his own thing, he should allow Raff to be his front man.  

"Sir, you are late again, stop daydreaming!" Snapped Podrick as he yanked gently on Tyrion's shoulder. The boy had a harassed look upon his face. He seemed to want to hurt Tyrion in his own daydream and Tyrion focused upon him. "Oh, yes. Sorry about that." Bronn snorted. "Why don't you get your victory dances out of the way here in the hallway while its still just us? You antagonize your father enough, he'll put a hit on you if he hasn't already." 

Tyrion smiled. "That is what I have you for. I also happen to be working with Gregor Clegane and his men which will also have a hand in keeping us all safe."

Bronn and Podrick shared a look of amused frustration.

"Tyrion, you are a dead man one way or another, you know that, right? I really wish you'd believe me on this. Look, your father always hated you, now its even more than hate. He will kill you himself or put a hit on you. Gregor just can squash you once he feels secure in all this. Or have any of his men come in all friendly to massacre us all. Sansa is going to murder you one day. She'll get bored or she won't find you useful anymore and poison you."

Podrick steered Tyrion closer towards the closed doors of the conference room.

"Or instead of that, maybe Sansa will feel a little something for you and have Gregor snap your neck really fast. I think she kind of likes you in a freindzone way." Podrick added helpfully. Tyrion rolled his eyes but a small tiny piece of him did believe them and that little piece shrieked as he went to the doors and opened them.

He knew he couldn't go in like this. Tyrion grinned and looked back at Podrick and Bronn as they entered the room. "Yeah, I know I'm probably going to die at the end of all this. But I want it to be by my loving wife. That way I can take her with me."

 

 

_Gregor was still somewhat new to this life. He cruised the ballroom one more time before heading back towards the curved staircase. Looking about to him it was easy to spot the other bodyguards. They all looked uncomfortable in their suits._

_Not Gregor though, he loved it. The expensive cloth rustled busily against him in some areas, a constant reminder of wearing this quality. Of course it wasn't truly quality, no that is what the guests are wearing. Someday Gregor will wear clothing better than any of these rich fuckers._

_He made it back to the staircase and caught movement up near the balcony. Gregor headed upstairs silently and cautiously. The threat wasn't very big, it was a redheaded little girl. All these business assholes got together at this charity event and brought their children._

_All day he had to hear shrieking kids splashing in the Olympic size pool. Then they all ran about with sparklers, shrieking after a barbecue with their parents. The children were all to be in the guest bedrooms. Apparently this girl has decided to watch the ball instead._

_"You aren't cleared to be in this area. Go back to your room, please." He grumbled, expecting her to squeal and run at the sight of him as most of the visiting girls did. Some of the visiting boys as well._

_Instead, Sansa turned, looked him up and down calmly then turned her head back to the ball. "Oh? Am I a threat then? In my slippers, nightgown and bathrobe? Am I hiding a bomb or an Uzi?" Gregor grinned at the little spitfire and leaned against the wall._

_"It is a bulky bathrobe, young lady. It could contain weaponry." He forced himself not to laugh. Sansa huffed indignantly. "What could I possibly have hidden in my nightwear that would be a danger? Please take into your account that I am only ten years old."_

_Gregor managed to keep his voice very even somehow. "Well, you could be in possession of a crossbow. It could fit in that bathrobe. Did you borrow that from that little fat frey girl? Speaking of girls, why aren't you with them? They are all having that huge sleepover, I can hear giggles and squeals. They must be having fun. You should join them."_

_Sansa shook her head and shut her eyes for patience with this oaf. "A crossbow? Really? Truly? I borrowed the robe from Cersei. And I was with the girls, they gave me a headache. They are playing at being princesses and that is something I stopped doing last year. It bores me now. This interests me more." She shifted and smiled dreamily down at someone._

_"Or you might be concealing rifle or even a spear. You are still very young, you should play with the dolls. If you don't like the games then maybe you should persuade the other girls into another game. What are you looking at that is so interesting anyway?"_

_Gregor came over to her and leaned over her back to see from her perspective. She didn't cower beneath him as others would, it didn't bother her at all. Her voice came out dreamy as she pointed towards her idol._

_"I wouldn't know how to even carry a rifle. When was the last time anyone in this day and age was attacked by spear? I tried to get them to do something else, but all the games they like are silly to me. My games seem to bore them. This is not boring, so here I am and I'm not moving until the ball is over. Look, see her? I watch them all down there but I watch her the most. They all glitter and shine but she.."_

_Gregor rested his chin on the redhead and grumbled out, "Cersei? Cersei Lannister is what you like to watch instead of playing games?"_

_Sansa breathed out, "I watch her, I study her, just like I do others at home. Her and Olenna are the most impressive you have here in the South. Olenna is a Queen and Cersei is a Princess here. I want to be them then I want to surpass them. They are lovely, they are beloved by society. Charities love them, so does the media. I want more than that. I want power, real power. That is why I study the men too. Tywin is prime example. And I watch him to learn how to topple men like him. If Olenna and Cersei were allowed to run the actual companies, if they were allowed an actual hand in the business end of things can you imagine how much power and worship they could have had?"_

_Gregor laughed now and moved away. He actual felt a grudging admiration for this girl's determination and her dreams of power in a man's world. At the same time he felt a bit of fear for the little firecracker. She won't be the first girl to try and break into a man's world. It doesn't always go very well for them._

_"You should go back to your dolls and the giggling over teen idols. Or just wish to be as popular as Cersei, maybe or Olenna? Because Tywin is not the type of man to ever let girls in the serious stuff. And from what I've seen your father is the same way. Your father will choose your schooling, the way you live and he will choose your husband. Get used to it now. But you can use power like the ladies too."_

_He felt like offering that lighter ending since the girl amused him._

_Sansa turned and looked at Gregor and she walked over to look up at him. "_

_"I am going to do it. You'll see. I will sacrifice anything, anyone to get there. I can be as ruthless as a man, I can be just as clever, as smart and determined. I will someday be equal. I will rise past my mother, Cersei, Olennna. I might have to marry someone I don't like, I might have to bend or even suffer but I will climb that ladder even if it takes a very long time. Even if it takes me seconds to be on the top before someone kills me. I'll do it."_

_Shaking his head, Gregor lifted the little girl to his face to meet her head on. His hands were spanning her entire waist but Sansa didn't seem scared at all._

_"I think if you try this you will get yourself hurt or dead. Why would you want to put yourself through pain like that? Just do as your told and once you are married, just rule your husband. You look fierce enough to marry the former mad mayor and talk him out of his pyromania."_

_It surprised Gregor when a small pale hand touched his lightly scarred cheek._

_"And what pain and sacrifices did you make to get here? Why is it alright for you but not for me? You aren't done climbing either, I can tell by your eyes, by the way you act. You are going to rise higher and I will rise higher too. I hope to see you again someday so I can show you what I have become."_

_Laughing, Gregor gave her a tiny playful shake before setting her down._

_"Silly fucking thing. Okay, you are right, I plan on climbing higher. No way am I going to have some old man like fucking Selmy always cautioning and sanctioning me. Once I turn nineteen and my G.E.D. is in my hand, I can move up. Tywin said as much. But you..you are going to rise, I am sure of it. How you'll do it I am sure will be the old fashioned way all women do it. But you will rise, I can see that." Gregor conceded a tad condescendingly. "_

_Sansa gave him icy eyes that were older than her age. Her chin went straight up and her words fell like stones  from tight lips. "No. I will rise in power my own way. I will use female wiles when I have too. But I am not going to just be some society wife. I will run things, I will own things. I will take it all from them and watch my father's face. Watch Tywin's face, all those smug faces. I am sure of it."_

_Gregor felt a true respect for the girl, an admiration and so he spoke again. He should have chuckled and walked away then. Instead he had to give a little tease. He was a fucking idiot is what he was. Dammit. Because he grinned and leaned down towards the firecracker. Actually she looked more like a baby honey badger ready for its first battle and it was adorable._

_"I'll tell you what, young lady. I will be powerful by that time, so if you are really trying and rising up, I will do favors for you. You just come see me but remember one thing. I tell this to all the admirable folks I lend favors to. You must always pay your debts back to me. And it doesn't have to be money, just something I want or need. And before you can scream stranger danger, I do not mean sex. Ever. Not into redheads. But I never allow a debt to go unpaid for very long. I always get my due."_

_Sansa smiled up at Gregor as if he gave her a real present. "I will hold you to that. And if I ever do ask for favors, I will always pay i_ t back."   

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In this story some of the characters had their own songs. Understand that the reasons why each song matches for me may not be apparent to others. It is usual a few lines or the chorus that offers me that match.  
> Kevan: Cleansed By Fire by Alice Cooper  
> Sunglass Men: Lullaby by Alice Cooper  
> Tywin: Make That Money by Alice Cooper  
> Polivar: Insane In The Brain by Cyress Hill  
> Jeyne/Samara: The Beast by Concrete Blonde  
> Arya/Brat: Invincible by Pat Benetar  
> Gregor: Set It Off by P.O.D.  
> Waif: Fancy by Reba McEntire/Triggerman by Alice Cooper  
> Olenna: Killer Queen by Queen  
> Sansa: Where The Lonely Ones Roam by Digital Daggers  
> Raff: Wicked Young Man by Alice Cooper  
> Reek/Theon: I Better Be Good by Alice Cooper   
> Ned: Sex, Death and Money by Alice Cooper   
> Cersei: Stay by Shakespeare's Sister  
> Dusten: She Hates Me by Puddle of Mud  
> Cat: Bad Intentions by Digital Daggers  
> Tickler: A Lap Dance Is So Much Better When The Stripper is Crying by Bloodhound Gang\  
> Robb and Jon: We Are The Champions by Queen  
> Ramsay: Cryin' Like A Bitch by Godsmack  
> Joff: Just Another Psycho by Motley Crue  
> Hot Pie/Piggy: Give Me Back My Life by Papa Roach  
> Tyrion: Opportunities by Pet Shop Boys;  
> Petyr: Everybody Knows by Concrete Blonde  
> Varys: Faith by Limp Bizkit  
> Margeary: Hit Me With Your Best Shot by Pat Benetar


	91. Let The Past Slide Away

Brat was pulling the last of the boxes out of her room when Sansa came into her room. "Sure, now you show. Unless you can help me lift that dresser or bed you are useless to me at this point." Brat muttered and tried to go past her sister with the box. Sansa stood in her way and tried to stare her down. "I want to talk with you. You can finish your moving afterwards."

"No can do. Gregor has us on a strict time schedule. I have ten minutes to get this over to the new Barracks. So follow me and talk if you want to." Brat barreled through her sister and grinned hearing a muffled curse. Suddenly a fist was in her hair at the roots, yanking her hard. "Oh, you cunt, let go!" She was off balance and the box was going to fall. Sansa hissed into her sister's ear and Brat winced at the hot breath against her flesh.

"You stupid little bitch! Why do you have to destroy everything! You destroyed most things I cared about when we were younger and I fucking despised you for it. I had fantasies of how I would murder you. I didn't though. I kept mother off your ass as much as I could. Tried to steer you in the right directions. All to recieve more hate and spite from you. Gregor gave you the right name, Brat. Don't fuck things up for me this time. Not now when I am almost where I need to be. You think being given away to marriage or as an adopted child is bad? I could have given you to Petyr and had you stuck in a brothel. I could have sold you off to Raff to be a slave in some exotic place far away and taken all your fortune as my own."

Brat dropped the box and spun to stare at Sansa. "Would you have done any of those things if you had to? For real? If you owed Petyr or Raff instead of Gregor...you would truly have done either of those things to me? Could you truly be that cold inside to your own blood? To your little sister?"

Sansa looked at her sister with a piercing knowing look. "And if Gregor told you to kill me? If you were ordered by your beloved leader to put a bullet in my head? Could you kill your own blood? Would you do that if you had to?" Brat gave a small harsh laugh after a second. "What the fuck have we become?" Her laughter was echoed but this laugh was even more bitter. "What we had to become to survive and climb our way upwards."

Nodding, Brat turned and picked up her box again. "So why are you pissed at me? Because I stopped Ross from being raped or because I burnt down the evidence of my kill?" Sansa rolled her eyes. "I am angry about that, yes, I am. You could have found another way to stop that rape, Brat." Walking faster because she was going to miss her deadline if she didn't hurry, Brat yelled over her shoulder.

"No, I couldn't. Polliver only gets worse if I try and stop him, and then he does horrible things. Besides, it wasn't just him, Raff was holding her down, waiting for his turn. I was blocked into the booth and couldn't get away from it. But I couldn't watch them do it to her, so I solved it."

Sansa was nearly running in her heels now trying to keep up. Brat nearly flew out of the Lannister home and headed for the former Stark property.

"You shouldn't have even been in a bar! You are still a teenager, did you forget that? You might hang with older guys but you aren't that old! You can't do everything they do! And you can't run around setting off a whole town!"

Rolling her eyes and sighing as if Sansa was a great weight of stupidity that she just can't shake, Brat replied.

"I know it was was a dumb mistake. It was impulse without thought and I apologized to Gregor for it. I also got punished for it and if you think GREGOR didn't make sure it hurt and stuck, you are very, very wrong. So you can fuck off now, I won't be doing that shit anymore. Goodbye, have a great day, stop following me now."

Sansa glared at Brat's back as she tried to keep up. "Don't think to fuck me over on this, Arya. You know what I can do to you. One word to Petyr or Raff-"

Dropping the box again, Brat got in Sansa's face.

"One word to Raff will get you nothing but laughter. I am one of the crew now. Even though I fucked up they have forgiven me. I would never betray them and they won't betray me. And do you really think Gregor would let you stick his DAUGHTER in a whorehouse or sell her across the ocean? You owe him still, don't you? I am not just his daughter, I am one of his crew. You sell me off and they will track me down. When I tell them who did this to me, what do you think they will do to you?"

Sansa shoved her sister hard and the surprise of it made Brat take a few steps back. Growling, Arya made fists and glared at her older bitch of a sister. Hissing, Sansa curled her hands into claws and narrowed her eyes at her bratty little sister. As if the years never changed them, as if nothing has changed. And with siblings, nothing really does change inside, they will revert into the little children if given the chance.

A large shadow cast over the two of them before the girls could disgrace themselves by attacking each other.

"Fuck." Muttered Brat, knowing she was late enough for Gregor to hunt her down. Sansa frowned at being interrupted. "I am speaking with my sister privately."

Gregor looked at Sansa and smiled. His words were so thick with sarcasm and dramatic flair along with his over-exaggerated expressions that Sansa winced. Brat watched this with a fascinated joy, to see her sister wilt.

"Oh? Is that what you were doing? Because it looked to me like you were stopping Brat from following my direct orders by harassing and detaining her. I am SO glad that wasn't at all what it was. You know, I bet I need glasses! Yep, I must!"

Gregor gave a laugh and slapped his knee then gestured to Sansa in a friendly, gosh, silly me way.

"Because I also thought I saw you threatening her. Know what? I bet I need my hearing checked too. I am getting on in the years, it has to be my hearing. Because silly old Gregor thought he heard you telling MY daughter and recruit that you would have Raff sell her off or Petyr put her in one of his private brothels."

He rolled his eyes and grinned, flapping a hand towards her. Bending down and putting his hands on his knees, Gregor laughed again.

 "But no..naw..nay, never, right? Huh? Gotta be me because I can't imagine how you could think Raff would dare do that? And Petyr? That fucking spineless worm would tell you no. He protects himself first and Petyr knows what I would do to him for such a thing."

The face was stern and deadly as if it had never been anything else. For a man of his size it was surprising how fast he was suddenly looming over the proud, angry redhead.  

Sansa found herself forcing her feet not to back up. Gregor bent down and stuck his face in hers.

"Brat is not yours anymore. She is not your concern or your responsibility anymore. I am who you deal with, not her. I already took care of her discipline and lectures, thanks. All set now. She will be just fine, mistakes happen during initial training. You will get over it and leave her alone. You have other shit to worry about, don't you? Once I fulfill my end of the deal, you must fulfill yours. And you better hope that the payment you offer is enough. Otherwise, I will demand a specific payment you might not like."

Sansa swallowed and used every inch of herself to stare into those reptile eyes with complete composure. She felt like a fucking mouse, it was an awful feeling, it was worse than how Joff had made her feel. This was true death in human form and Sansa knew if he felt like it, Gregor would murder her and not blink over it.  "It is my concern if it affects me. This is a bad time for the town to riot against us. We aren't liked very much in the North. We are trying to reestablish ties not reinforce the distrust." 

Gregor gave a very polite smile and stood straight, mimicking her business attitude.

"Really? I didn't know that. Geez, do you think I should tell them not to do that again? I really need your advice on these things. Thank you. Now why don't you go fuck off somewhere? It won't happen again. If I have to keep repeating it, I'm going to think you don't like our services. If you want to protect yourself from the hit man that are most certainly coming with just your hubby's men, go right ahead. I won't be offended. I don't mind just knowing you at a professional business level."

Gregor saw the same angry little high class girl that swore to sacrifice anything to be at the top.

Sneering, he turned away to see Brat already trudging towards their new home. Gregor turned back to grumble at Sansa.

"Leave her alone. Do not distract her anymore. That girl might be the one to save you from a bullet in the head. Brat, the trained killer, a training spy. If you are being watched by her, you would live. Now if it's Arya watching you, the emotional little sister, what would your chances be then?"

He turned and left, following Brat to the new Barracks.

 

By the end of the day they had all moved everything into the Stark mansion. The pets had done the bulk of the work, leaving only heavy furniture for the men. Raff had dismissed the staff with envelopes from Gregor that made their eyes bulge. The servants were replaced with slaves that were desperately grateful.

Knowing the fate of most of the other slaves, this was the best kind of position a slave could get. The servant rooms Cat had downstairs were more comfortable than Raff was happy with.

However, he saw the amazement and fear on their faces. Fear that it was a cruel game, they knew they would sleep in a basement, chained to listen to rats move all night, or a cage. All three of them looked at the rooms then at the floor. They didn't go into the rooms to look any further, they clasped their hands and waited.

Raff thought of Jeyne and smirked at the cowering three.

"These are your rooms. Across this hallway is a full bathroom with a shower, you three will share it. That isn't a trick, these are your assigned rooms. You will also note at the end of this little hall is a den. With a television, comfortable couches and your own little pantry. Even a tiny kitchen. Mini fridge and stove. Tiny sink. I am sure you will all make do. Here is the way it works for now on. You start out with full privileges like comfy rooms and your own little den and kitchen. I will allow a small budget in your grocery house bill for your meals. You are allowed three meals, breaks and use of the bathroom whenever needed. Slip up, disobey or disrespect a member of the Barracks, make a mistake, you start to lose these things."

 

Samara and Piggy still did the cooking as well as caring for everything that had to do with their Masters. The slaves did not touch Polivar or Raff's rooms. Polliver and Raff shared a floor with Sandor and Brat by Gregor's order. Brat and Sandor's rooms were as far apart as possible. Each of the crew had a personal full bathroom, a small living area and a large bedroom with dressing room that led to a walk in closet. Polivar kindly gave his dressing room to Piggy as a personal bedroom.

The dog cage came with Raff and Samara. Raff made her carry it and put it in the corner of the room. "That will only be used if you are a bad little bitch. But you are my good girl, aren't you?" He cooed and Samara hurried away from the awful metal wire thing to meekly put her head on Raff's chest. She was being allowed to stand more and more due to necessity. The move couldn't be done on hands and knees.

Raff still had her kneel and crawl most of the time when he was around, he noticed it made Samara feel safest. However, he has lifted the rule of her crawling all the time except when she has to stand for working purposes. When he isn't home, Samara may stand or kneel as she needs or wants to. Samara was so excited over this that the first few days became amusement for the other slaves, including Waif.

The first time Raff told her the rule and left the house, Samara kept waiting for a trick. She would stare at the door then timidly stand, waiting to fall to her knees. All day as she walked carefully, almost as if sneaking and the slightest sound made her freeze, ready to go down to the ground. Piggy would try and cajole and tease to put Samara at ease. Waif smiled and they all watched her with silent support.

The second Raff entered the house Samara went down on all fours and burst into tears, shaking. Raff laughed at her and pulled her into his lap. "Poor thing, was it scary?" She nodded and hid in his chest. "Good girl."

Second day was easier and Samara stopped jumping at the sounds. She did most of her chores standing and then she even stood up while eating lunch. The third day was when she ran up and down the stairs because she could. Then Samara skipped a little and gave a small leap here and there all day because she could.

The fourth day she walked all through the house that she was allowed in, including the grounds, knowing she could. On the fifth day, she stopped sobbing when Raff came home. She would crawl with her usual fearful adoration to her Master,but Samara no longer feared standing or walking. Now she feared it being taken away. 

The slaves all ate together most meals in the kitchen. It was large enough to host a party but Gregor and the crew ate in the dining room. This was by Gregor's order. They served breakfast and supper at a specific time set by Gregor for all the crew.

The slaves eat beforehand and the same with supper. Small breaks and lunch are also shared by the slaves in the kitchen. The three lucky slaves that work tirelessly to keep the house clean were not only polite and friendly to Waif, Samara and Piggy, but a bit submissive to them as well. They would not dare upset the favored pets of the Masters.

It was a new feeling for Piggy and Samara but neither could bring themselves to abuse it. They liked the new slaves. Shae had a dry dark sense of humor that they all enjoyed, Irri who had all sorts of interesting stories and opinions to share and Gilly was just plain nice.

 

Brat took a moment to walk through the whole house and she even peeked into her old room. It was an exercise room now and she liked it better this way. Her mother never let her decorate the way she wanted in her own room. The new quarters are larger and her entire pay was going towards it's designing.

As she strolled through the house Brat thought if her mother could see it now, she would drop dead all over again. It was very male dominated now and though it was clean as Gregor liked it, it was not at all elegant. It had no woman's touch. A good amount of furniture and paintings were sent to storage or to her sister's home.

Gregor had only kept the pieces he wanted to use in downstairs formal rooms to show off for potential clients. His own furniture was in his wing but Gregor assured them more was coming for the rest of the public areas. They were special order and the ivory and bone structured furniture covered with animal skins took time as they were rare animals, near extinction.


	92. Below Eye Level

Tywin's downfall was simple. He has risen so high he forgot to notice those below him anymore.

Sansa, Tyrion and Gregor must have forgotten about that.

 Gregor didn't notice anything about anyone else at the Barracks as long as it didn't interfere with him. He was too busy getting the warehouses in order, the new products moved. There was some dissension to deal with and quotas to meet. 

So Gregor didn't see the look in Waif's eyes at the sight of the new house slaves.

 

Waif had waited until the men all left for work before going after them. They were expecting this and calmly were waiting for her in the kitchen. Piggy and Samara were cleaning their Master's quarters so the women felt free to hang about the kitchen casually.

Waif entered and glared at Shae who was sitting on the marble counter swinging her feet.

She turned to stare icily at the other two sitting in chairs sipping tea. "If you are here for Gregor, you may leave. Tell the rest of my boys and girls he is under my protection." Both girls stared at Waif like she had gone mad but they both nodded.

"We aren't here for him. I am here for Tywin Lannister." Gilly said and Irri grinned. "I'm here for Sansa Lannister. I think the best part is they probably called the hits on each other. But there are so many out there for the three Lannisters, its really funny."

Waif shrugged.

"It doesn't matter who calls for it as long as they pay up when the deed is done. Very well, but tread carefully here. Trust me when I tell you that these are dangerous people. Be nice to those two pets, in fact follow their lead when you can. Don't try and make the girl talk, don't try and speak to them about anything but what a normal slave would discuss. Make fun of the Masters or gently tease and joke with the slaves but don't cross the line into dangerous insults, don't ever mention anything that sounds like rebellion. Breaking minor rules won't be too bad but if you break major ones, they will turn you in for it. They are truly the epitome of Stockholm Syndrome. They are broken in and the girl has long gone insane, I think."

Shae sighed loudly and Waif turned to face her. "Am I boring you, Shae? And who are you here for?"

With a smirk, Shae replied. "I am not one of your fucking merry band of killer whores anymore, remember? I play to my own tune and you have no right to bore me to death with one of your overcautious lectures. You kicked me out and have no say in who I go to kill. But I find it interesting that you want to protect that behemoth."

Waif walked slowly towards Shae who suddenly scrambled up, trying to hide her uneasiness.

"Do you remember why I kicked you out, dearest? Because though you were a good killer, you were bad team player. Your temper and emotions made you sloppy. Incapable of doing any actual spy work or guarding work. Distraction and extraction jobs that were easy were bungles by your bad or hasty behavior. You put yourself and others in danger, nearly getting one young man of ours killed on your last mission. That is why I had you leave. I told you this wasn't the life for you, to find another life for yourself. I gave you enough money to do anything else in the world and what did you do? You put yourself right back in harms way. I have devoted my life to giving kids a new start, abused children. Clearly with you I have failed."

With a snarl of anger Shae forgot her wariness and leaped off the counter to face Waif.

"You always say that fucking lie! You are a jumped up madam that makes killers! Waif's home for abused kids my ass! I went from being fucked up the ass by one man to another that bald fuck! He told me I was pretty, taught me how to feel good then as soon as I felt safe, he sells me off to you. And guess what? You had me fucking too, just with a creative twist. But hey, at least I got learn to kill and spy. You are as bad as the men that were raping us! You are a just a different kind of rapist!"

Shae never even saw the hand until the blade was nearly touching her eye. "Who are you here to kill, Shae? If it's Gregor Clegane I will give you this one chance to shut your filthy mouth and run the hell out of here."

Turning pale, Shae bit out, "Not your honey bear. But I do not have to tell you who. My business is my own now, you said so yourself. It's not fucking Clegane, so back off."

When a tear or two betrayed Shae's fear, Waif stopped moving the blade closer in tiny increments.

Satisfied, Waif said softly,

"I am sorry you had a bad life, dearest. I had a bad childhood too as did every child who I took in. So I don't have a very motherly instinct about me. But I care about turning victims into survivors, I cared for each child the best I could. You were already using your body, I couldn't change that fact. I taught you how to use it for yourself. You were shown that you weren't just as object but a person in control of the nightmare. And you moved out of that phase fast, didn't you? Then we saw what I knew was there. A crack, a rage that causes such recklessness. You don't belong in this world, I always regretted taking you in and training you. I had told Varys you weren't right for us but he begged me. And that means your early death will be on my shoulders as well as his."      

Wraith moved away from Shae who looked shaken. "I really hope you are telling me the truth, child. Because I will not hesitate to kill you if you try and kill Gregor. I will make it very slow and very painful too."

Waif walked away from Shae who muttered, "Wasn't after your fucking creepy boyfriend. And I don't need your fucking advice for anything."

Gilly and Irri grinned and giggled to each other after Waif had left. "Ever wonder how the fuck old she is? I mean she looks like nineteen right now."

Irrir shrugged, "Does anyone really know how old she is?"

Shae wiped her eyes fast and glanced at Gilly, then said, "I once saw her look almost eighty during a training session. She was looking thirty one minute, then bam. It's like she changes skin almost. It takes me at least a few minutes to switch looks and personalities but not Waif. Gods, I have never hated and admired someone so much. I pray to stand over her grave someday. Because the story of how she died will be as epic as my pissing and masturbating on her grave."

 

 

Tyrion and Sansa also were consumed by their own works. Since they have managed to create more efficient and happier staff at their companies, their stocks went up and so did their status as well as their profits.

Sansa was seen as a hero of women and families in the professional workplace. Tyrion became the champion of anyone that was labeled as anything but normal, whether it be a disabled person or a transgender one in the professional workplace. Charities and dinner parties weren't complete without a Lannister in attendance.

It was deliberately let slip that they were very much in love and secretly married since they had a high popularity. It was gossiped and whispered about for a time but it just heightened their invitations and popularity. If anything it made them more intriguing to have around.

Tyrion told excellent jokes and could sing. Sansa was clever,danced and also sang. If a host could manage to get them to do a duet at a gathering, that person was skyrocketed in popularity for a time.

This social and business work along with making sure that Petyr and Tywin weren't screwing them over, made it hard for them to notice much else. Therefore they had no time or inclination to check in with Gregor or his methods with the factories or warehouses.

Oh, Bronn tried to mention it to Tyrion, who would grumble about calling that Mountain asshole again. Tyrion might actually make a call or two, both of them yelling at each other and nothing changed. Well, it changed, it was a bloody forced one.

While the top echelon were celebrating the lovely way Sansa and Tyrion helped the equality in the busiess world. As they all enjoyed their glittering charity events for the less fortunate to have better things, the lower classes in the North were being enslaved.

All any of these upper throng had to do was ask one of their servants. Sansa could have asked her hairdresser, the spa workers or any of the waitstaff at any restaurant shed dined in for lunch.

Tyrion could have asked the security guards, the janitors or any of the lobby men who hail his driver. The bartenders or the cute waitresses at his favorite pub. He and Sansa could have asked any of the staff at their favorite restaurants.

They heard it on the radio, it was on the media but it was always toned down, smoothed over. Well, in snatches of overheard conversations and certain, okay, a good few sources, it sounded worse. But who listens to those who want to deliberately make something sound worse?

So all the self congratulatory sleek ones smiled and ignored the obvious ranting of some wild Northerner who loves to make conspiracy theories. With a witty comment of how soon this guy will be ranting about aliens or werewolves, they look away and upwards.

 

 

Gregor indeed had come down like a Mountain.

Raff did see to it that workers had breaks, days off to rest, bathroom time, reasonable lunch times. An area in every factory or warehouse was turned into a cafeteria and kitchen.

Some workers that were not as productive in their jobs were turned into kitchen staff. Taught to cook and keep the cafeteria clean to official standards. Food for breakfast, lunch, dinner and snacks were free. A benefit of the job.

For parents that worked there was an option of a daycare for all factory and warehouse workers that was also free. Some workers that were not as productive in their jobs were turned into daycare staff. Taught to care for all ages, given courses on how to deliver first aid and CPR to infants  and children. At any time a parent may access the daycare services as long as they are at work. A benefit of the job.

A small gym is installed at every location and a small store for everyday items you would find in any convenience store. The store is also run by moved workers and the gym is as well. So is a small branch of Lannister Banks that way each employee can get to their banking during breaks.

The break rooms have couches, small gaming areas for everything from chess to ping pong. A few arcade games and even back areas set up for twenty minute naps. Comfortable cots for those who must take a rest. All a benefit of the job.

These are the reports that float upwards and it pleases the Lannisters to hear it from Gregor's mouth at meetings. No need for lay offs or firings, just clever relocating. The Mountain was praised and they begrudgingly begin to try and see him as truly equal.

This is what the sleek ones hear and like to smile over. See? Even below they are receiving better treatment then the Starks and Boltons ever offered. Things are going well and they all clink glasses over it.

Except.

The relocated workers are never asked or consulted about the new job. Just one day Raff calls a group to the office and tells them of their new positions. It is done with a smile and it is made to sound nice, but they all feel the same proud northern insult.

Many are indignant but have families to provide for, or loans crushing them and cannot do more than stiffly nod and storm to their new jobs. Others couldn't bear it and either refused to budge from their current positions or they quit in a fury. 

But.

Those that worked the new jobs found they hated cooking or despised snotty nosed crying brats. They found themselves mopping factory floors, a position that was paid far less than the one they held before. Some had no temperance for their new jobs.

Food sometimes was raw and caused food poisoning. A lot of times children were handed back to a tired parent, covered in bruises. On a few rare occasions a baby was handed back dead. Wasn't often and Raff took the worker that was doing it away and that person didn't come back in any position at all.

And the benefits were truly needed in spite of how bad they might be. Because most of the workers were working shifts that doctors would cry over. Luckily, they could sleep, bank, buy things from the store and have free food and daycare because they almost lived there. The two days off were mostly spent sleeping in their much neglected homes.

Petitions for better treatment were created and ripped up as the person who created it was taken away to human resources. A place that was not the refuge it was in the shinier buildings. This was a place where you were brought for lectures or re-positioning if you were lucky.

If not, it was to be disciplined. That involved threats and pain, fear and on rare occasion, death.

Strikes were treated with the same force as a riot would be treated. Those who had left tried to fight back and bad things happened. Tragedies. Secret meetings were broken up and the secret locations were set on fire.

Which meant a small church, two bars and four homes all caught on fire. A whole family in an old tenant building was slaughtered then a few more murders in an alley or two.

 

 

The crew was busy trying to do Gregor's bidding. Trying to learn their own new jobs. They were going between factories, warehouses and giving protection to Tywin and Sansa. They didn't see how the house slaves were getting along with the pets.

Polliver and Raff have more money, a nicer living space and no time to enjoy either one. It was impossible and they took this out on the pets, one way or another. But they didn't see the long hours the slaves spent together, all of them. They didn't see the troubles brewing there. 

Brat and Sandor didn't have to worry about their awkward relationship because they had no time to. Rarely did they work at the same location. There was only one time they saw each other and that was meals. Regardless of anything else, if one was not on shift then they were at that dinner table.

Gregor reigns over his twisted family and he uses the time to check in with them.

Piggy and Samara cook the food and the house slaves serve it. Piggy and Samara serve their own Masters. Samara kneels with her head on her Master's knee waiting for orders and Piggy stands attentively near Polliver in case he needs something.

They are listening to Gregor tell them he is calling down more of his men from Kings Landing. Polliver, Raff and Sandor looked both angry and relieved. Brat had no real reaction she only grimly acknowledged it will be two more men to force to accept her as an equal.

Gregor told them ShitMouth and Joss were coming to assist the crew. Pollivar smacked the table and Raff cursed while Sandor groaned. Brat took another bite of her chicken. "Is he really called ShitMouth, Sir? I mean, how does he go in public with that name?"

None of them noticed the glances between all the slaves. They had no idea other discussions were happening. Raff never saw Samara threaten a house slave. Polliver didn't see Piggy's frustrated anger at the same house slave.

They never saw how often the three new house slaves left the house or were on top of it with a scope. It wasn't noticed that the slave girls searched the entire home to find the best escape routes. Or the equipment hidden among almost every heat vent.  

Piggy and Samara are not stupid. They are suspicious of the new pets with good reason and no way to tell their Masters of it. That is alright. They know exactly how to handle problems on their own if need be.

 

 

Olenna didn't look to see how Varys was caring for Tommen. She was busy warily allowing Kevan into her home with his sunglasses men. Loras was screaming in pain and terror but she doesn't care to see that either. He had quickly been sedated and shoved into Kevan's white van.

Kevan sipped tea with Olenna.

"You are sure you can cure my grandson for me?"

"I can. You have already suffered so much under that vipers den. As have I. They corrupted and murdered my boy. They corrupted your grandson and killed your granddaughter. Join me in this fight and I'll make this boy into anything you want him to be."   


	93. Whore

Gilly and Irri were a cause for suspicion certainly, the pets kept a very close eye on them. They never actually caught them doing anything wrong but it was in the way they acted and spoke, same as with Waif. Piggy finally cornered them with Samara growling behind him protectively.

"Are you like Waif? And if you are, is it our Masters? Is it Polliver or Raff? It's all we care about. Just be honest, okay? We aren't the type to tattle about others. We don't give a fuck what happens to anyone else."

Gilly tilted her head and stared at Piggy like he was a new species.

"Honey, you should rejoice if someone killed Polliver. You could leave here then. It wouldn't be escape, it would be just regular freedom if the man is dead. But I promise we are not here for your Masters. We aren't here to cause any trouble for you. We are well trained, we can do our work here just like a good slave until we are ready to leave. When we are done, we just will disappear. Okay?"

Piggy and Samara seemed to speak without any words. "I don't want my Master to die. He takes care of me, he gives me protection! Polliver needs me to assist him, to care for him, I am needed here. No one else has ever needed me before. What would I do with freedom in a world where no one will ever need or want someone like me? Love is sort of out as huge as I am, ya know?"

Irri laughed along with Gilly. "Is that a joke I hope? Have you looked in a mirror, boy? I have no idea what you might have looked like when Polliver first caught you. You are stocky, but you aren't fat if that is what you are implying." Suddenly a warning eyeball peered out of the thick hair that was Samara, the silent nightmare of the house.

"Fuck, don't do that. I'm gonna have nightmares for a week!" Irri panted out as she held her hand over her pounding heart, staring at the damned eye.

  Gilly caught the meaning however and nodded quickly. She got the point, do not try and discuss Piggy's weight. "We mean you no harm, we mean your masters no harm. We will not interfere with you and we just ask you keep your silence about us. We don't mean to pry. I hope you understand that we will gossip and joke with you as this slave job is rather grim and boring."

Her grin was infectious and Piggy gave a ghost of a grin back. "It would be fun to have someone else to chat with. Samara and I get bored talking to each other all the time. Our arguments are always the same and she always wins." A husky sound that the other two took to be a giggle came from under the hair and they tried not to shudder.

Piggy and Samara tried very hard to get along with the new house slaves.  They adjusted to having so many others in the house during the day. Waif was rarely seen except during meals or when attending Gregor in the main parts of the house. Irri and Gilly would interact with Piggy and Samara when they all cross paths. During meals and breaks they tend to joke around with each other and try to gently make the others join in.

But there were some drawbacks. Well, one main one.

 

_Shae._

_**Bitch. Whore. Cunt.** _

Samara had so many words to call her by. Oh, hate wasn't even enough to describe how she felt about Shae. Piggy had enough hate for that bitch. He felt as unhinged as Samara over Shae. At first it was small stuff, easily ignored.Shae tried to get Samara to talk with no avail. Piggy coldly told Shae to please leave his friend the fuck alone. Both pets wanted nothing to do with the abrasive, critical, know it all woman.

This gave Irri and Gilly something to tease and taunt her about.

There was bad blood between the Wraith's children and the outcasts of the Home. Regardless of how much Gilly and Irri hated Shae, had they known what it would lead to, they never would have taunted her about the pets telling her off.

Shae saw it as a personal challenge now. At first she kept taunting Samara about not speaking. Her serpentine voice was all Samara heard every time she left Raff's quarters. If Masters weren't around to see or hear it, Shae would follow the spooky silent girl, trying to make her say something.

"Jeyne, I know that is really your name. It is a pretty one. I'm going to call you by it until you use your words to tell me to stop." Samara gave her a response with teeth bared and two fingers in the air. Shae gave such a dramatic pout and a sweetly heckling baby tone that Polliver, the king of bullying would have been impressed.

"Uh, oh, Jeynie is upset with meanie Shae. Poor girl, dumb and mute can't tell me to fuck off with her mouth. No, her mouth is only good to suck cock and kiss boots. Come on, say something, show me you aren't truly just some whipped bitch. Hey, I think I get it now. Raff wasn't turning you into a pet or a slave. He just wanted a moving fuck doll. What happens to fuck dolls when they start to get wear and tear as you clearly are..."

Shae grinned as her eyes scanned the many scars and wounds on the thin girl. "They get thrown away. Poor little fuck doll. Where are you going, Jeyne? Oh, well..bye then!"  

"Stop it! Don't you think Samara has enough to deal with without you bullying her?" Piggy would snap but Shae would just give a toothy grin. If Samara wasn't around, then Shae went after Piggy.

"Why do you think you're fat? I mean is it like a disorder you had before you became this collared hog? And really, I mean you leave here all the time to that market, to the farm. You could easily run, you know that? I mean, you know this area a lot better than Polliver, right? You know it isn't normal to want to stay and be with your kidnapper, right?"

Finally, the pets took all they could of Shae's constant mouth spewing things and decided to give a warning Shae wouldn't miss.

Samara was cutting onions while Piggy was adding butter and garlic to a large cast iron skillet. Shae was sitting on the counter and Piggy would have gladly have given up his right pinky to see Raff come in right then. To have this bitch caught at how lousy she was at her job. 

"At least you could act like a real human being during the hours your Master isn't home. I mean, standing and walking around is a big step, sure. What about tying your fucking hair back so you don't look like a fucking horror prop?" When Shae continued to get no response from Samara, she got annoyed.

Gilly and Irri were there gathering the china to begin to set the table.

"Hey, do you think you could maybe do some of the work around here? Huh? Like maybe help us set the table? It's not like you are going to get anywhere with the pets. Give it up, in fact, you should really give up the entire trip. Whoever your target is, I feel bad for them. It is obvious your method will be to badly taunt them to death." Irri taunted cruelly and Gilly smirked.

Shae spit out, "Fuck off, I'm not talking to you. I am busy talking to this fucking cheap imitation of a well ghost. Now listen, if you don't talk Jeyne, I'll never find out if you or I fuck Raff better. Does he like it best when you use your mouth or hands before he-"

Shae screamed as the blade the girl was using came down hard slicing off the tip of Shae's finger. The flesh lay uselessly upon the marble counter which now had blood and a scratch upon it. Samara swung with the blade again, this time at Shae's face, but Gilly and Irri were there to grab her.

"No...hurting her we can cover up. Killing her is a different story, dear." Gilly whispered as the girl began to calm herself. They both released Samara when she just laughed at them.

Piggy grabbed the screaming woman by her long hair and slid the still burning hot pan, spitting butter under her face. Samara helped pin her over it. The other two hovered by but didn't stop them this time. Piggy's flushed face came very close to Shae's head and he grunted his words like an enraged boar.

"We can kill you. We know exactly what to do with a body, bitch. Trust me. Do you want to imagine what it's like knowing others are eating your flesh? Huh? Guess what is for dinner tonight? That tender meat you stuffed down your face two days ago? And the meat tonight in the meat sauce? Keep fucking with us and I swear you'll be on the menu."

Piggy let some of the butter spittle burn the girl's face as the meaning of his words sunk in quite well. Shae kicked backwards and Samara fell away with a grunt. The bitter whore's head cracked back into Piggy's chin and he let go. She wrenched away from them and staggered back. "Sick..you two are lying. Sick fucks..look at my finger!"

That night Shae stood tearfully in front of Raff with her bloody bandaged finger. She explained that she did it helping the pets cut vegetables for dinner. Raff didn't take her to Qyburn as he might have done if it were Samara. Instead he examined it, stitched what he could, gave her a painful tetanus shot and an antibiotic shot. She gave soft thanks and tearful sobbing, making sure her cleavage was on display.

Samara seethed as Raff pushed Shae to the ground and had her use her mouth on him.

But that was just the start.

Shae has been bested by two freakish lowly creatures and she couldn't live with that. Vengeance has just begun.

 

Polliver has been a bully since he can remember. He loves to make others do whatever he wants, he likes to make others look foolish and cry, grovel. His father had been a bully. He had lots of practice on his wife and son as well as at his job.

Polliver's father was a corrections officer for the Red Keep Prison. Tywin Lannister owned it and the state paid him kindly for taking it off their hands.

It was full of sadists, murderers, rapists. And then there were the prisoners. 

When Polliver's father was at home he not only drank, he reigned like he was the warden of his own private prison. And truly, Polliver and his mother were prisoners. Polliver's room consisted of a mattress, a dresser and closet with a shoe rack and polished hangers. Gods help you if you hang clothing on a hanger that wasn't polished first. There were many rules and they were followed.

At first Polliver tried to be obedient at all times, tried to be perfect in all things, tried to follow every impossible rule. Then he noticed something. His mother never broke a rule. His mother was obedient, perfect and meek in all ways for his father.

And she was still beaten, still as tormented physically, verbally and mentally as Polliver himself. Even though he would mess up and therefore deserve what he got, she was perfect but still received the same level as harassment. Huh.

Polliver stopped trying to please his father and things only got worse. Some would have crumbled, his mother wept and begged her son not to push the man. Polliver told his mother that he was no longer scared of his father.

And with her worn, bruised face full of terror for her son's life, Polliver's beloved mother kicked him out of her house.

"You leave now! Run as far from here as you can! Don't ever come back, don't ever try to get in touch with me! Do you hear me? I won't watch my son die! Get out or I'll beat and drag you out myself!" With tears in his eyes and a fast hard hug for his mother, Pollivar grabbed what meager items he had and ran.

Just before he left the house, his mother grabbed her son and shoved something into his hand.

"My sister gave me this years ago to use to leave him. I was going to take you and leave while he was at work. But that day..I packed everything I could into your diaper bag. I took you out in your stroller like I did almost everyday. We went to the train station and then we were at the airport. That is as far as I ever got. I couldn't do it and we went back home. Your father never found out and I never touched this again. But you can use it and don't you dare chicken out like I did! Now go! I love you and hope you find a good life for yourself."

Polliver ran and used the two hundred dollars as best he could. He was in the lowest level of the Kings Landing youth detention center within two months. He had stood in front of Judge Stannis Baratheon, there was steely pity in the man's eyes. The judge didn't seem to like his father which Polliver found fascinating.

"I am sentencing you to one year in youth detention. You will continue your middle school education there as well as recieve counseling. I am also recommending that you be not given back into your parents custody. We shall meet again after your year is up and see what family court can offer you."

Polliver was soon in a gang and was bullying paradise. At the end of the year it was decided that Polliver was unfit to be placed in a foster home or adoption center. He was put into a program for kids with behavioral issues.

To his horrified amusement it was run by Kevan Lannister. The brother of Polliver's father's boss. Sweet gods, why can't he get the fuck out from under these Lannisters? Polliver didn't let the hellish place take him down, in fact it was a bullies paradise. The counselors, teachers and religious instructors were all bullies and sadists. So were some of the students.

And though others didn't believe him when he said it, Polliver was actually grateful for the mockery of a school. It taught him what his father and mother couldn't. He learned how to use restraint when needed. Nothing any of the authority figures did stopped him from his own bullying or penchant for bad behavior.

But Polliver learned the need to shut his mouth for self preservation after spending months with a wired jaw for telling Kevan Lannister to fuck off. It took several rounds of solitary with nightly random beatings before Polivar understood how to act when others were watching.

He was assisted by other kids in learning how to spy, how to creep about. These skill were only perfected as Polliver found himself rising in the ranks at school. Soon Polliver made his first true kill. A guard that was known to torture and accidentally on purpose kill some of the youngest and weakest students.

It took four boys to get the man down. Pollivar strangled him after beating him nearly to death. His popularity went higher among more students for it. He also was learning how to gain popularity among the staff as well.   

He lovingly would set up the alter that he raped a new female student upon the night before. It was a high position to serve in the school chapel. Polliver has learned to watch Kevan Lannister speak from that podium as if it were the word of the gods given to him.

Then Polliver would reverently shake the man's hand. The same hand that would shove a boy's face into a toilet full of the fresh shit Polliver had taken. When Gregor came along, Polliver was ready for a fresh start. It was a huge plus that his criminal skills came in quite handy.

 

Polliver believes, truly believes that he is kind to his pet Piggy.

Considering his upbringing, considering his world, he was. _He is._ And so far, his beast only has little fuck ups, nothing Polliver can't handle. He is proud of how he has cared for his pet. Look, all that jiggling fat is gone, the boy is still husky, but that is muscle too. But Polliver is a bully and has a temper.

So even though Polliver has been bullying employees at factories, as well as locals that are angry, just like his father, Polliver is never done bullying if he sees a reason to continue it. And here it was. Polliver stood still in front of the steps to enter the house. He was staring down at a cigarette butt. Lifting it and studying it, Polliver confirmed it was the brand he would always catch his Piggy smoking.

He knew Piggy had a pack stashed away some where but Polliver could never find it. His pet hasn't slipped up with smoking in some time. The last time Polliver caught him, Piggy was burying a filter in the backyard of the old Barracks.

Polliver buried Piggy up to his neck in a hole he made the boy dig. He left him there all night and didn't retrieve the boy until the next afternoon. After he dug Piggy out, Polliver beat him with a willow switch until the kid couldn't squeal anymore. Apparently, Piggy has forgotten his last lesson.

What made Polliver see red wasn't that his Piggy slipped up and smoked. That was amusing, it gave a reason for a punishment. Polliver was fond enough of his pet to enjoy letting him have his little mistakes. Polliver gave corrections like any good owner but he never got really angry over it.

Disrespect is what bothered Polliver.

Piggy gave him not just fearful servitude, he nearly worshiped his Master and Polliver encouraged that. The forbidden cigarette half smoked was right here where anyone could see it. Not only Polliver, but Gregor or any of the crew. Or what if there was an emergency and one of the Lannisters came by? 

This was blatant disrespect and clenching the cigarette in his hand, Polliver entered the house, thankful he came home early today.

**"PIGGY!"**

Jumping into the air at both the slam of the door and Polliver's bellow, Piggy glanced at Samara. "Hey, work on dinner for me while I see what is pissing him off this time." He muttered as Samara nodded and gave him a sympathetic look. Piggy started to head towards the hall but Polliver was already steamrolling into the kitchen.

Piggy could see the anger on his Master's face and that it was solely directed at him. "You little fucker, get your ass over here now! What the fuck is this? Huh?" Polliver shoved the half smoked cigarette into Piggy's face. "This yours? You couldn't even be bothered to try and hide it? Didn't even bother to go out back with it and bury it afterwards like a decent animal buries its shit?"

Crying out at several hard smacks across his head, Piggy protested. "Master, I didn't! Please, it isn't mine!" Polliver stopped whacking Piggy and stared at him with a look of disbelief. "You would dare to lie to me? Go on, lie to my face, bitch. You want to dig your own hole deeper? Go on then." With a cry of frustration, Piggy begged for Polliver to believe him.

"I would never lie to you, Master. I didn't smoke that. And if I had smoked, I wouldn't have done it in the open or left the evidence there! But I didn't do it, I swear it!" Polliver stuck the cigarette in Piggy's face. "Is this your brand?" Piggy nodded miserably. "But you didn't smoke it? Someone else here likes your brand of cheap generic cigarettes? Who? Name someone, boy. Go on, who? TELL ME!"

Piggy knew damn well who it was and so did Samara. And they both knew no one would believe them without proof.

As Polliver began to hit Piggy, this time with fists, Samara cooked dinner, shaking with impotent fury. She could do nothing, say nothing and Piggy was only making it worse by denying the crime. Polliver grabbed a beer from the fridge as Piggy lay on the floor, holding a broken nose and spitting out blood.

"I want to know where you are hiding your cigarettes, Piggy. I'm so pissed at you right now..you don't want to make it worse, boy. Tell you what, you bring me to where you hide them and then you apologize for lying to me and I'm going to see to it that you don't _sit_ for at least a week. You keep lying to me about smoking, you don't give up that pack to me and I'm going to see to it that you aren't able to _walk_ for at least a week. Your choice." With a shuddering sob, Piggy nodded.

He snuffled blood, snot and tears as he led Polliver out back towards the area where they chopped and stacked wood for the fireplaces. Piggy extracted a crumpled cigarette box and handed it to his Master. "And are you sorry for lying to your Master?" Piggy gritted his teeth but he grimly nodded. "Yes Master, I am very sorry for lying."

"Good." Polliver took another pull on his bottle then opened the box of smokes. "How many would you say you had left here?" Shrugging, Piggy guessed, "I think I had seven left." Shaking his head, Polliver said, "Nope, you have five. But I have this half smoked one in my hand and look at that." Polliver pointed at another crushed filter near the wood pile and Piggy groaned in frustration and despair. It wasn't fucking fair. Polliver was giving his pet a shark grin that was maniacal in it's cheeriness.

"Oh Piggy..the trouble just keeps getting worse for you today, doesn't it? Go on, tell me that one isn't yours either. Want to? Wanna keep digging that hole deeper for yourself? Anything to say, boy?" Piggy shook his head and stared at the ground, already weeping. Grabbing Piggy by his hair, Polliver dragged the boy into the house while his other hand contained the two butts and the battered pack. Once they entered the kitchen, Piggy found himself kneeling on the tile.

Polliver shoved the smoked cigarettes in Piggy's mouth first. "Chew and swallow them, now." When Piggy started to gag more than chew, his Master forced some of his beer into his pet's mouth. As soon as it helped Piggy wash the vile pulp down, Polliver pulled the bottle away. Then he had Piggy eat all five of the leftover cigarettes.

"Don't worry by the time the nicotine sickness hits you, you'll be too busy worrying if you will explode your vocal chords from the beating you are about to get." Polliver assured his pet as he rummaged through the kitchen drawers till he found what he wanted. He held up a large steel spatula with holes in it. "This is what I'm using on you for smoking. I'm going to beat your ass and thighs with this until I see purple circles all over a red ass."

Then Polliver held up a large flat wooden spoon. "This you'll get afterwards. This will be for lying to me. I am going to hit your ass and thighs with it until it breaks." He dragged a sobbing Piggy upstairs and even turning on music couldn't drown out the sounds of Piggy's agonized screaming and begging. Shae came through the kitchen grinning. "Your poor buddy. He really should thank me though. Smoking is such a terrible habit and Polliver will make sure he quits this time."

Samara growled at Shae and the girl gave a nasty grin back. "You're next, bitch. I'm going to take everything from you. Not that a pathetic thing like you has much. You have your buddy, already got that little fucker. You have your Master and as you already saw the other night, won't take much to make him mine instead. So what is left? You. I'm going to make sure that you are no longer needed or wanted. Watch out, bitch. You are on borrowed time now." 

 


	94. When Gods Pass Judgement

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> forgive me, readers. this is the longest chapter i have ever written in this story. my tribute to the long episode the other day that destroyed me. enjoy and thank you for your patience with me.

Waif sat alongside Samara, enjoying the first of the summer sun. They were also carefully caring for their Masters shoes. All of Gregor's shoes were specially made. Raff had one pair of shoes and one pair of boots from the same traders as Gregor.

Unlike Gregor, he couldn't afford more than that. Not unless he asked his father for the money and no fucking way was Raff doing that. He was here to prove to his father that he can do just as well on his own. Raff liked running and training slaves, it was in his blood, it was how he grew up. But there had to be something else he can do just as well.    

So every single thing Raff can do on his own, anything new that he can accomplish is proof to shove into his father's face. Raff loves his father, his whole family, but they cling too much. Everything is done one way and that is the only way. Oh, and they expected him to marry their choice for a bride. Not only was the girl average in looks and had not a single erotic bone in her body..but she was a dominant woman. Raff wouldn't stand for it and the girl would never submit to him. He would either ignore her or beat the hell out of her until he killed her or until she killed him.

His parents and siblings yelled and warned and cried, but Raff had to leave. He loved working for Gregor Clegane. His new family was quite fucked up but it was chosen by him. Raff was a proud man from a proud family and he cannot stand not to look his best. Yet his version of the best had to be adjusted with his income. His shoes and boots are very important to him.

That is why Samara took care of them as tenderly as a babe.

Waif was showing her a new technique for the leather on the shoes. Human skin mixed with exotic reptile skin to obfuscate the texture was a delicate process to clean. Samara eagerly cleaned and treated the shoes with enthusiasm. Her Master would be so pleased, the shoes have never shined like this before! He might even give her a smile, a caress on the cheek and her stomach would go warm. Master might cuddle her or let her orgasm until she sobs.

Waif lent her some of the special wax she uses to protect the leather. "Now we let them sit here for a little while until the smell goes away. Let's say, fifteen minutes?" Samara looked up and Waif saw an eyeball and half of a small smile. The girl nodded and Waif understood. "You are welcome."

 

Samara set a timer for fifteen minutes on the microwave. Stealing a cup of tea from Piggy, she giggled and sipped it. A small smile from him but his eyes were a little sunken in. The shorts didn't do much to hide the deep black bruising. Polliver indeed beat him until the wooden spoon broke. It took an hour to break the spoon. Polliver ended up carrying Piggy to the clinic.

Qyburn informed Polliver that the boy had a crack in his tailbone. "What do you do for that?" The doctor told Polliver there wasn't much for it. "He needs some rest. He needs anti inflammatory meds, probably a few painkillers. Along with all these deep contusions everywhere this boy will be hurting very badly." Polliver grinned and asked, "So..limited motion on chores?"

Polliver gave Piggy three days to heal and rest. Then Piggy would slowly drag himself to his chores. The chores were reduced but the ones he had took him nearly all day at first. Samara took over cooking meals, only handing it over to Piggy when he felt up to it. Polliver would give Piggy pain pills if he saw him moving way too slow while crying.

"Hey, Raff is home. He just came through talking on the phone. I guess someone important is coming by soon. He was all like..excited but freaked at the same time. Think it's a family thing? He did say father in there. It was a different language and the only words I picked up were visit, father and cucumber...or was it lizard? I don't know." Piggy shrugged then winced as he polished the last of the silverware.

Polliver found other smaller duties for Piggy as he was recuperating. The cabinets and drawers have been sanded, polished then covered to protect the wood. No pan, pot or utensil has gone unpolished.

Samara understood now why her Master needed his shoes to look so good. The beeper went off and Samara headed to the porch. And screamed.

Raff heard the scream and came down as Piggy was trying to waddle his way towards the porch.

Waif stood next to Samara who was shaking as if she would fall apart at the slightest touch. "She went too far. Way too far this time. I'm going to take at least three fingers and scar her face for this." Waif spoke coldly but calmly as she stared at the destruction of delicate, fragile, expensive shoes.

Samara dropped to her knees, wailing as she lifted Raff's shoe that she worked so hard on. The shine was gone and there were teeth marks and rips throughout the shoe. As if someone chewed it to death. Raff enjoys having Samara play the dog and she has chew toys he enjoys watching her chew and shake while he is on the phone or working on his laptop.  

Waif stared at the mistake Shae made.

It had to be a mistake because Shae couldn't possibly think to take on Waif. One of Gregor's shoes, the one that was next to Raff's was also torn and bit. Not as badly but enough that it will take a skilled tailor to fix it. Waif has never been on the receiving end of Gregor's anger. Would he actually believe that Waif destroyed his shoe? No. He won't. But he might be mad that she left them somewhere vulnerable.

Raff arrived at the back porch with Piggy sweating and grunting, waddling painfully just behind. Raff sucked in his breath at the destruction of his shoe and took it from the sobbing Samara. His voice was silky, gentle, reasonable and calm. Samara cringed low and started to whine in terror.

"Sweet girl, are you angry with your Master over something? Hmmm? Did you wish for a chew toy and forgot where they were? Did you forget that all your toys are in your cage waiting for you? You should have just gone upstairs and gotten one of your toys to chew on. You are going to be in that cage for a few days now. Do you know what happens to a stupid broken down bitch that chews on the wrong things?" 

The shoe came flying down and Samara cried out as the heel struck her cheek hard. Grabbing Samara's long hair, Raff briskly walked into the house. Piggy and Waif were behind him and in the hallway they collected Polliver who had just woken up. He had been terrorizing those fucking union groups all night. Thank gods Gregor gave him today off. He watched the strange parade going by and followed it, calling out, "Piggy, I want coffee."

Raff threw Samara halfway across the kitchen, following after the tumbling girl with the shoe raised up. "Oh damn...is that the pair of shoes you saved your checks for like months for?" Polliver whistled and shook his head as he fell into a chair. Piggy went to get his Master's coffee but he could hear Samara's yelps as Raff beat her with the shoe. Waif stood in the shadows, near the archway leading to the staircase.

Gilly and Irri appeared soon and stood near her. "He might kill her. Look how furious he is...you have to say something. You can't wait for Gregor." Gilly pleaded softly but Waif still hesitated. If she did defend Samara and rat out Shae, there is a good chance she will lose the kill to them. Waif shook her head and continued to watch. Surely it won't be worse than what Polliver has done or what Raff has already done.

Piggy brought Polliver his coffee and got a whack for crying into it. "Sorry Master. Very sorry." He muttered and tried to move as fast as he could to scour the sinks. The sounds of the shoe slamming into flesh and Samara's cries were too loud to pretend nothing was happening.

Then it happened.

Just as Piggy noticed Shae grinning, watching from a window embrasure in the opposite hallway from the girls. Oh, that bitch, how he wished he could just fucking murder her. He hated being helpless, he has no voice and to be honest, Piggy was too beaten down for any form of defiance. And then he heard it, oh god, Raff will kill her, sweet gods, she has used her voice.

**"Master, I didn't do it! Please, I love you! I would never hurt anything of yours!"**

Raff stopped hitting her to stare with his head tilted as if he didn't understand what was said. "Did you just speak without permission? Did you just decide to start SPEAKING?"

Polliver leaned forward with glittering eyes, Piggy moaned and Shae nearly laughed. Waif, Gilly, Irri and Piggy all turned away in shared shame. Samara not only went flat to the ground, she pissed herself in sheer fucking animal submission and terror. Waif herself moaned when then girl's rusty voice trembled forth one last time. "Please! Master, Shae did this! I wouldn't, I love you! I am your good girl!" Samara held out a hand beseechingly.

Raff looked down at her and spoke so sweetly.

"You are a good girl? Destroying my shoe is being a good girl? Speaking without permission is being a good girl? Or blaming your destruction on someone else? How is that being a good girl? You are a bad girl. Bad, very bad. You are going to be in your cage for a long time. And you are going to get your lips sewn shut again for two days this time. But not until after I beat you until you can't scream anymore. If I hear one more word from your mouth without permission, I am going to cut your tongue out. Do you understand me?"  

Samara nodded, sobbing and squirmed forward on her belly to kiss his shoes. It is all she has left, to grovel and hope it appeases the beast, knowing it won't. "Get upstairs into my room. Take your clothes off and get out my black box under the bed. Not the toy box, the other one." She wailed softly but nodded again and moved to crawl away.

Piggy staggered forth to stand before Raff as he went to follow Samara. She also stopped at the declared words and stared back in shock.

"No wait! Raff, she really didn't do it! It was Shae."

Polliver slammed his fist on the table and roared out, "Piggy! If the man wanted your fucking opinion he would ask for it! Get back to your work and mind your business before I pull you over my lap right here. You think your ass can take a nice bare paddling with my hand or belt? Huh?" Piggy panted in panic and lost his small burst of courage. He started to slink back but then Waif came forward.

"It was Shae. She smoked the cigarettes and she destroyed the shoes. The girl hates the two favored pets and is trying to make you beat them to death or get rid of them. As you would with one of us. Shae doesn't comprehend why your slaves love and respect their owners. She wants to take their places as reigning favored pet. Then she can stop pretending to do any housework." Waif stared at Raff and Polliver without any expression.

Irri and Gilly came forward to stand next to Piggy. He had stopped retreating to watch Waif defend Samara.

"We heard Shae telling Samara how she would replace her. I also saw Shae smoking the cigarette out front. I'm sorry I didn't say something sooner." Gilly's voice was submissive but there was a thread of steel in there. Raff and Polliver heard it as well.

Now it wasn't telling on someone to prevent a punishment, not to the Masters.

No, it was a challenge.

Pollivar's jaw hung open and Raff stood there, still with the shoe in hand, staring at Waif.

"What the fuck is wrong with all of you?" Polliver hollered as he stood up and started to remove his belt. Piggy gasped and went to his knees then tried to crawl away fast. "Master, please! I stopped, I obeyed you! Please don't beat me! I will scour the sink and then cook your favorite dinner! Please, Master!" The crack was loud and Piggy's scream was even louder.

Polliver then held the belt threateningly over his cowering boy. "You have no opinions here. You do not EVER get cocky around your betters again. Hear me, Piggy? Or I'll fucking beat with this belt until you are unconscious. I wanna see real groveling and understanding, Piggy. Because you are on fucking thin ice with me right now."

Piggy cried and kissed both the belt and Polliver's shoes. Something he only does when Polliver is very angry about disrespect. This was that line, the next look that comes is the dead look that is terrifying. A look of something about to kill and devour you. Piggy doesn't ever want Polliver to look at him that way. "I'm very sorry for being a disrespectful Piggy, Master. Please forgive me, I won't do it again. I won't forget my place, please Master, I am so sorry."

Polliver gave a mean smirk and swatted the belt lightly at Piggy to make him flinch more. "I'm going to forgive you, Piggy. If it happens again...there will be a lot more than groveling you'll be doing to earn my forgiveness. Hear me, boy? Good, now get that sink scoured and cook my favorite meal. Now." He watched as Piggy stumbled painfully away, crying and still shaking.

Raff was staring at the girls and then he calmly gestured to Samara. She crawled forward fast and took the damaged shoe he handed her. "Down and stay." Raff snapped and Samara nearly threw herself into position. He stared down the three woman before him.

  "I don't care for insubordinate slaves. You are clearly a bad example for my girl. She was very obedient until you three showed up. Did I make a mistake in giving you all such a considerate, kind place as this to work? Perhaps you'd all rather to be owned by someone who will beat and fuck you constantly? Maybe be left chained in a closet until guests show for a little fun? Or men that like to make snuff films? They would pay a lot for you."

Samara cowered at her Master's feet, cuddling the shoe like a doll, sobbing silently. Waif remained expressionless but Gilly and Irri paled. It would blow their cover to act any differently. And to be fair, Raff was fucking scary. He might be handsome but the cruelty and dominance of him was overwhelming and suffocating. Gilly and Irri were nearly pressed together and they whimpered a bit.

"If you touch me, Sir, what do you think Gregor might to do you for it?" Waif asked flatly and Samara gasped in horror at the rude, bold question.

Polliver came forward, swinging his belt idly and shook his head. "Ohh, that wasn't very nice, little girl. You might belong to Gregor, but he won't stand for you acting that way. We won't either."

Raff smiled and it made the others all shiver but not Waif. She faced him down, even as he got closer.

Gilly and Irri backed away and nearly ran into Polliver. "You two....belong to the household. I am the household. Now let's take care of this little rebellion of yours. It is cute, girls, but tiresome." He cracked the belt. "Who wants to go first? Or how about both together, that's kind of hot isn't it? Trust me, better my discipline than Raff's. Really."

Raff stared at Waif and spoke very softly with a gentle, pleasant look on his face. Samara peeked up and saw it, then curled up into a ball, whining with fear.

"I won't have to hit you to hurt you, lovely little girl of Gregor's. I was your Master first, your trainer and decider of your fate, remember that? If you piss off Gregor, do you think you will survive here long? Or what if he gives you back to me? Do you think I'll thank you for that? I will tell Gregor of your behavior, between that and the destroyed shoe I think he will hit you plenty." Raff leaned in but the girl didn't back down or lower her eyes. Her back was ramrod straight.

"My Master gave me a cell phone to reach him in emergencies after the attack months ago. I have determined that this is an emergency. I have called him, I did it when I first saw the damaged shoes. He should be here soon, Sir." Raff growled and it took all his will not to hit this robotic girl. "I hope I hear your screams all night when Gregor sees his shoe, hears of your behavior."

Irri and Gilly were howling as Polliver began to beat them both. He pulled up their shirts and down with their shorts. Like an artist, Polliver began to create bright red stripes and curls on the white squirming bodies. 

Shae was so excited over seeing everyone getting in trouble. Seeing Samara and Piggy scream and grovel with pain was lovely. She planned to masturbate tonight to the sight of Samara being beaten with a shoe.

Just like when Piggy screamed half the night while Pollivar gave him a spanking from hell. She came to that four times that night.

So excited, that Shae didn't see Gregor coming up to her. She didn't see his clever eyes watching her delight.

Shae cried out in surprise when a large hand enveloped her waist and carried her into the chaotic kitchen like a bag of flour. Gregor tossed her and she slammed into kitchen tile, nearly falling onto Polliver. Everyone in the room stopped and looked at the groaning Shae, then at Gregor.

Right behind Gregor were two men.

"Well, this is one hell of a greeting to walk into. Half naked slaves crying and getting spankings? Hell, I'm in." Joss grinned in a way that made every female but Waif shudder a little. His eyes were a muddled hazel and they looked hungry, greedy and feral. His teeth seemed too large and too sharp.

The other man who kind of looked like a fat Gandalf grinned widely at Raff and Polliver. "Well, fuck me sideways with a shaved goat! I thought the North would be cold as a witches tit, dark and wide as a well used whore and as boring as listening to one of Kevan Lannister's lectures. But I was majorly fucking wrong! Look at these lovely ladies!"

"Do they serve dinner naked or can we eat off them like in one of those movies?" Joss leered. Shitmouth rolled his eyes. "Shut up, lad. They aren't here for you Clearly they are slaves going through some sort of crisis right now. Go find yourself something to drink." Shitmouth shoved Joss towards the cooking area.

Polliver gave Piggy a look and the boy deserted dinner to rush for the fridge.

He gave the douche bag a beer without looking up so the man wouldn't see his disgust. Joss watched Piggy go back to cooking. "A male slave? Hey, which one fucks you? Or are you open for anyone to use? Are you a house-slave to please the guests? Cause I can go both ways. If those girls are all claimed, I'm coming back for you tonight. What is your name, slave?" Piggy winced. No one ever called them slaves outright.

"My name is Piggy and I belong to Polliver." He said as he nervously tried to move further away.  He pointed to the leather collar around his neck. It had a tag that had Pollivar's name on it as if it would help. The man followed him, grinning, enjoying the chase. "Piggy, huh? Why Polliver? He isn't bi or gay." Clearing his throat, Piggy responded as he found himself cornered. His voice was higher pitched and strained.

"A party. He killed all my friends at the party. He let me live. I am his slave, I cook, I clean and I make sure that my Master has everything he needs. Master is generous, he protects me from those things."

With a soft laugh, Joss got right up to the boy and his knee started to go up Piggy's thigh. He loved watching the boy nearly climb the wall behind him. Good, he loves the squirmers and the fighters. He spoke in a whisper now, his face getting very close to Piggy's. The boy tried to turn his head away.

"I have known Polliver much longer than you. I am his equal, I am his buddy. You are only a slave and he is your owner, not your friend. Even if he said no to having you, I'd find a way, Piggy. I'm going to pork you before I leave for the South again. Don't worry, I love a good chase. I enjoy the fight and the struggling." Joss gave a small growl and bared his teeth in Piggy's face. 

"Please. Please, don't. Not that, I can't. Please." Piggy was not with Joss anymore, no sirree.

He was back in the laundry room with Tickler. A massive shadow with a grin that seemed to find the one beam of moonlight. That very first time, that was truly the worst of it all. Fear and pain and shame can't cover it. Not adequate but there are no words that Piggy can use to describe it. The boogey man came for a tiny boy scared of the dark.

_Tickler made Piggy feel like a tiny, helpless boy and the man didn't bother to use lubrication. "Don't worry, little fucking beast, you'll tear and bleed soon, then it will feel a little easier." Tickler drooled on his skin and ripped the insides of Piggy and he would bite him on his head hard. "No one will notice the bite marks on your big fucking head. Who the hell would run their fingers through your hair?"_

_Piggy would cry every time he heard those heavy steps. He would beg, Piggy wouldn't fight or struggle but no matter how good he was, it wasn't enough for mercy. Tickler was relentless and he needed pain to orgasm. Sometimes he would gag Piggy with a dirty sock then he would jack off while fisting the boy hard. He would come to the muffled screams._

Joss sneered and started to run a finger over Piggy's face, the terror was pouring off him in waves. As always, that was the real turn on, not the person, it's the reaction. This boy was prey, he always gives in to the predators. But someone has gotten to him first and that is where the little piglet's mind went. Joss was familiar with this reaction on slaves. Of course, it was more fun when it Joss himself causes that look, but he'll make that happen soon enough.

"Get the FUCK off my Piggy! Are you trying to hump my property, asshole? What the hell kind of greeting is THAT?" Polliver hollered as he nearly threw Joss off his boy. "You asshole! Fuck the house slaves! Leave my boy, Raff's girl and Gregor's pet and his daughter the fuck alone! They are off limits. Damned horndog!"

Polliver snarled at Joss as he pulled Piggy roughly into his arms.

Polliver started roughly shaking Piggy until the boy looked at him. "Hey! You good? Right? Hey? He's dead. Remember that? Tickler is dead, he was murdered. He can't touch you anymore. Joss didn't know the rules yet. He can't touch you either. If he tries anything, you tell me, remember? I won't break that promise to you, dude. Okay, Yeah? You with me still? Can you answer my friggin questions, Piggy?"

Teeth chattering, white as a ghost, Piggy burst into tears, shaking. "Ah, fuck. Thanks a lot, Joss. You freaked him out, nice. Thanks for coming to help us out. So far its been a great idea. Yeah. Fucking asshole." Polliver glared at Joss.

But Joss was more interested in hearing that Gregor had a new daughter. "Sir, a daughter? You didn't tell us this? Who is she? Where is the lucky kid?" 

Shitmouth saw the look on Gregor's face and he opened his mouth wide. As Shitmouth roared the walls shook and every single eye was upon him.

"SHUT THE FUCK UP, YOU WORTHLESS, USELESS, DINGLE BERRY'S HANGING OFF THE HEMORRHOIDS IN GREGOR'S ASS. LET YOUR LEADER SPEAK OR I SWEAR TO EVERY GOD THAT I WILL PERSONALLY FUCK YOU WITH THE SKULL ON GREGOR'S SHELF. THEN I WILL START TO REALLY GET MEAN. AND WHY THE FUCK DOES IT SMELL LIKE PISS IN HERE?"

The silence was magical, it was immediate and to Gregor's amusement, half of them were holding their breath. And only two of them were slaves.

 

Sansa and Tyrion were at a new pub. It was a relative of the Freys and it was in the Riverlands. Of course, it was a two hour drive there and back, but Sansa knew their presence would boost relations between the Riverlands and Winterfell. At least that is what they told everyone.

When they entered the pub, it was dark and clean. It wasn't impressive but it wasn't bad either, just average. A few booths had folks in them. All of them talking quietly. Every now and then more booths filled and then they were empty.

 Many times the food ordered wasn't even finished, or eaten at all. A good amount of the guests came armed or with a bodyguard that was armed. No one looked at each others booth. The waitstaff was reserved and saw nothing but the notepad, the food and the table. Sansa and Tyrion found the place quite comfortable for their purposes. This was a place to go for shady things, for transactions best kept quiet.

"Are you sure you won't try this wine with me? It's rather good, wife." Tyrion poured himself a third glass and Sansa raised an eyebrow. "Well, it looks to me that you can finish that bottle off without any help from me. I'll stick with my tea, thank you. My days of drinking, drugs..it's over. I am too old, have too much too worry about for me to trip up with that stuff." Sansa watched stiffly as Tyrion started to chuckle and wave his arms at her.

"You...are younger than me, by, so much that it's barely legal! Every time I think of trying to...I feel like a pedophile. It isn't a turn on for me. But you are too old to drink anymore? The partying age is over for you, is it? You aren't even old enough to legally get yourself a drink yet! You should be trying to sneak a drink. That is what twenty year old kids do, you know. And why worry so much? You aren't in this alone, can you recall that, dear? We are a team and we have Gregor. We have other connections and supports as well. I wish you would act the silly twenty year old you should be on occasion." Sansa was saved from replying by someone entering the dim pub.

Petyr seemed to glide over towards their table and the shadows tried to cling to him as he sat down. He sat next to Sansa and smiled at her before nodding at Tyrion.

"Well, are we right to worry? Is there reason for us to intervene or is this a lost cause?" Petyr shook his head at Tyrion. "It is worse than you thought. I do fear if we don't hurry to intervene then it will indeed be a lost cause. What do you want me to do?"

Tyrion looked almost anguished for a moment then Sansa lightly reached over to touch his chin. "Husband, listen carefully to me. I know you have guilt but don't let it take you over. We must think with clear cold heads not our hearts. What is best for us all. See? That is what I mean about having so much weight on my shoulders. It is like being a god, Tyrion. We our holding lives in our hands. Sober up so that you won't think I made a decision without you."

"Gods,eh? Well, being a god sucks then. I mean, I am about to send a victim into hell." Tyrion mumbled as Sansa ordered him water while Petyr smirked.


	95. Sorry For The Error, Have A Freebie On Us

Gregor remembered how much he truly missed having Shitmouth around. He might be rough in social situations but he kept the men in line. Whether they needed knocking around or a grandpa to nod and listen sympathetically. Shitmouth was also the least suited to torture, therefore he kept the boys from taking things too far when needed.

He should have invited Shitmouth down from the start, dammit. Maybe Tickler and Dusten would be alive now. Unlike the other boys, Gregor has known Shitmouth all his life. They were incarcerated together, they had done robberies and other jobs together. They trusted each other to have each others back. When Gregor started to create a crew, he asked Shitmouth to be his Hand, to keep them in line. Too bad he didn't trust  his original instincts to bring his friend along. 

As for Joss, Gregor knew this would be difficult and the boys would have to readjust to each other. Joss was a little prick that only got along well with Tickler as a fellow sadist. But even they had their fights because Joss always felt above the others. Only Raff could claim royalty in his bloodline and Dusten was a damned Lannister. Yet in Joss's blown up egotistical soul he knew he was better than them all.

After all, he was Gregor's actual personal assistant. He not only saw plenty of wet work, he was having a major hand in managing the southern boys left behind. Which was why he was really called away, not that Joss seems to see that. Gregor was receiving calls left and right over his pompous little idiot assistant. He was bullying the customers and trying to make new impossible deals within rival areas.

So Gregor had him sent down with Shitmouth in hopes of letting another fix the issues. On Tyrion and Sansa's suggestion, he sent Petyr to put things in order. Apparently, Petyr was going South in hopes of visiting with Varys and Tommen. So it was easy enough for him to extend his trip an extra day or two to put everything back together for Gregor.

Petyr was apparently as good as Tyrion with employees and accounting. Gregor had been in a good mood, Petyr was back and called him right away. Everything was back to running smoothly, all account were going to be back in good standing by the end of the month. After Gregor hung up with Petyr and was pulling into the driveway of the Barracks, Shitmouth called him. "Excuse me Sir, but your fucking luxury car is in the way of my fucking rented Yugo!"

 

Gregor laughed as Shitmouth pulled the metal atrocity into the driveway next to Gregor's new Lexus.

"I don't know who the FUCK I must have pissed off for this karma to hit me! In order to have pulled such a mean thing, in order for me to have to suffer this thing that has no air conditioning and smokes more than a oven full of my enemies on a busy night! In a past life I must have been some kind of fucking pervert that liked to dress like a teddy bear, sneak into little girls bedrooms, rip their blankets off, rape their kittens and puppies in front of their innocent eyes. Then tell them there is no such thing as magic or dreams and that someday they will die but not until after they see their own parents die. At that point I must have taken a rather large and loud shit on their dollhouses before leaving. Only something that evil could call for this type of cruel punishment!"

Chuckling, Gregor had slapped him on the back hard enough to fell a lesser man. "How is it that we are the same age and yet you look like an old man from the fucking hills? Why don't you shave that fucking beard? How many fucking creatures live in it now?"

Shitmouth just scoffed, "It's an old bone, give it up. You are still jealous that I was born hairy and you were born dolphin smooth. Joss, move your fucking ass and unfold yourself from the car. If the boy wasn't eighteen fucking feet tall, he would have had a better time of it in that battered cunt of a toaster. Lucky he's so thin, otherwise I would have had to just tie him to the damned roof. Weren't enough room for big me and praying mantis him."  

Gregor had no idea he was about to walk into a damned circus. It was not the first impression he intended to give. Interesting that the last thing he said to Shitmouth and Joss as they entered was, "It is usually quiet this time of day, just the slaves doing their chores. Even when they are all here, they have calmed their behavior a good amount." Next thing he hears are screams from the kitchen.

 

He sees that a slave is enjoying the show with a smile. It is the one called Shae.

  Gregor has seen Waif watching her with narrowed eyes. When he asked his pet about it she replied that she didn't trust that girl. It was an instinct she said and Gregor accepted that. He has been wary of the new girl ever since. However, he has not caught her doing anything wrong. But her eyes were shifty and hungry, they were also very bitter. Not at the men, at the other slaves.

Seems like the time may have finally come. Way too much chaos was happening in there, it looked like all the slaves were in there in tears or being punished. All except one? And that one is hiding, watching with pure evil delight? When Waif had texted him, Gregor wasn't too concerned. He did leave to head home though. His girl wouldn't ever use the privilege of a phone without very good reason.

"Master, there is great conflict here. Please come home, I fear that there might be a severe injury or death. Shae has done something terrible and she has framed me." Gregor had left as soon as Waif contacted him. Even though he was positive the men wouldn't dare lay a finger upon his slave, they might harass her or punish her in other ways.

Now Shae is laying on the floor with lovely tears flowing down her pretty face. Raff's girl is nearly in a fetal position at her Master's feet. And Raff is in a staring contest with Waif. Polliver is trying to fight with Joss while he squeezes the life out of the sobbing boy in an attempt to comfort him. The other two house slaves are half naked and mostly strapped, sobbing and avoiding eye contact. It was not what Gregor finds acceptable. If this girl was responsible for causing this mess, Gregor was going to make sure every inch of this chaos will be paid in her skin.

"Waif, what are you holding? Is. that. my. shoe?" Gregor felt his blood pressure rise and the familiar throbbing of a vein in his forehead began. Waif nodded and for the first time felt a bit of fear. Was that rage directed at her?

"Yes, Master. Samara and I polished shoes today and left them on the back porch to dry. We used a wax that has a strong scent at first. We set a timer for fifteen minutes. When we went to retrieve them, one of your shoes and one of Raff's were destroyed. Shae has been saying for days that she wanted to get the pets. For revenge and to get them killed or removed.  She has been taunting them since she started here. The other day she smoked two of Piggy's cigarettes and left them for Polliver to find. Now Shae has found a way to hurt Samara. But she made a mistake, she touched your property too, Master."

Nodding, Gregor looked up at Raff and Polivar. "My girl doesn't lie. If she says that bitch has done this, then the bitch did it." Gregor looked at the crying girls. "Pull up your shorts, put your shirts down. Now, have you both seen Shae bullying or threatening Piggy and Samara?" The girls both timidly confirmed it, staying in their roles.

Gregor then turned to look down at Samara. "Give your creature permission to answer me, Raff." Raff ordered Samara to answer any question Gregor put to her. "Has this girl been harassing you? Did you she threaten to replace you? Did you witness her threaten your little friend?"

Samara knelt up at Raff's snapping fingers and replied tearfully and meekly from under her hair. "Yes Sir. She has been trying to make me talk. I wouldn't. It made her angry. She tried to tell me that she was going to take my Master and I would be killed or sold. When Polliver started to beat Piggy for the cigarettes, Shae came in and told me that she got Piggy and I was next."

Samara went quiet then and tried to inch closer to huddle against Raff's leg. Absently, Raff began to pet her hair and Samara whimpered softly, grateful for the contact and assurance.  

"Everyone of them are telling the same damned story, you idiots! Maybe if you two listened before just wildly attacking with your fucking clubs, you'd have found out the truth! Now you have beaten and terrorized your pets for nothing." Gregor glared at Raff and Polliver. "Idiots." Shaking his head with disgust as the two turned red and looked away, Gregor then looked back at Waif.

"You knew that Shae was out for revenge against Samara. So you left my shoes next to Raff's outside knowing that Shae might come along to get Samara? That wasn't thinking smart. My dear I do believe you have earned yourself your first punishment. Raff, you can mark it in your notes, the perfect pet is finally receiving her first disciplinary action."  Waif felt a wave of dread and curiosity fill her and she bowed her head. "Yes Master. I am sorry that I have failed you."

Gregor gave her only a sharp nod before nudging Shae with his foot. "Stand up, now. Do you deny that you have framed the pets? Do you deny that you destroyed our shoes? That you deliberately framed Piggy for smoking? Before you speak, I already believe you are guilty. Lying will only make your punishment worse. You really don't want that to happen, girl." Shae stood up and looked around, trying to think of a way out of this situation.

Her mouth opened slightly as she stared at Gilly and Irri, who looked slightly nervous. She caught Waif out of the corner of her eye and Shae bit back any words about hired killers pretending to be slaves. Waif would kill Shae the very second that she revealed any of them. She would be dead before Gregor or any of them could react.

Looking down as if repentant, she confessed.

"I did it. They are favored, they are spoiled and I despise them for it. They don't act normal, either! They are allowed to leave, to walk everywhere to the market, whatever and they could run! They could try and they don't even try! With chances like that? What normal person doesn't try to leave? The girl's Master isn't even home and she won't talk! How would he know if she said a word or two? The boy's Master is gone and he won't even sneak a beer or extra food. It's like they aren't even human anymore! I mean, Samara could pull back her hair and talk like a person! Piggy should sneak a cigarette! She should want to ruin his shoes! What is wrong with them?"

Her bitterness and jealous hatred along with confusion as to the pets behavior was true and gave honesty to the answer.

Polliver snorted then grumbled at Piggy. "Alright, I was wrong, I can admit it. You have a freebie, Piggy. Next time you deserve a good strapping, you can remind me that you have one freebie coming. Good boy." Polliver gave a ruffle to Piggy's hair and helped the boy to be steady on his feet now that his tears were just snuffles.

Gregor looked at Raff.

"They are yours, your stock. I will leave the discipline of this slave up to you. I suggest it should be harsh enough to be clearly recalled at any time but not so much that she cannot continue her chores. Which I have been informed are more of a charade while she watches the others do the work. You might want to consider retraining this one or switching her out for another. But not until you make sure she pays for ruining my shoe and causing the pets harm through her games."  

 Gregor announced, "Polliver, instruct your boy to make us drinks and a much larger dinner than originally planned. Let's welcome our friends properly. Sandor and Brat should be back soon enough." He turned to Raff. "Take that troublemaker into the basement. I am assuming the punishment will fit the crime. Oh, weepy house girls, you may continue with your chores. Waif, you will stay and attend me."

Gregor gave Raff a hard look. "You brought her here. I am expecting you to pay me back the full amount of those shoes, Viserys. Guess when your daddy visits, you'll have to ask him for the money."

Raff turned pale at hearing his name and he felt himself fall straight to the bottom of pack status.

"I will rectify the problem, Sir and I will pay you back for the damage to your property." He assured Gregor stiffly but with great feeling.

He grabbed Shae by one arm and dragged her to the basement door. Raff didn't have to even gesture to Samara, she was obediently at his heels. "Shut the door and lock it behind us, Samara." She obeyed and followed them silently down the stairs. Shae was crying and begging for mercy loudly as Raff grimly forced her towards a cross shaped padded holding device.

Samara was moving towards the table that held her Master's favorite blades. He will want them if he plans to restrain Shae on the cross. Shae was pleading hysterically now as Raff began to restrain the girl's left wrist to the cross. Raff harshly commanded her to be still, that defiance will only make her lose more than one nipple.

Shae seemed to go limp for a moment, as if giving in, begging not to lose pieces like that. How can she be giving men pleasure if she has no nipple on one of her breasts?

 Suddenly Raff was thrown off balance and he was seeing his timid, meek girl turn into a crazed rabid pitbull. Screeching in rage, Samara plunged one of Raff's blades into Shae's eye. The woman screamed and Samara revealed her other weapon. While Shae tried to use her left hand to pull the blade out of the eye, Samara used the machete from another table to sink it into Shae's right wrist. Howling in agony, the woman dropped the tiny gun. With a growl, Samara pulled the sharp steel out of the wrist only to begin to slowly aim at Shae's neck.

"No! Samara obey your Master! Do not kill her!" Raff's voice whipped through the air, cracking into Samara's ears harsher than a dog whistle. She cringed but stared at Shae, licking her teeth as a sickly grin grew on her face.

"Kick the gun to me, my good girl. Good, loyal pet, protecting your Master."Raff made sure his voice was approving, it was comfort and safety for his girl.

She was a skittish thing for all her wild brutal protectiveness. Even though Samara can kill and fight, Raff has made her a fragile weak thing. In bursts, the girl was deadly but she had no endurance nor any real training in fighting or weaponry. He convinced himself of this and cooed in a low tone that had a hint of savagery to it. 

Samara whined deep in her throat and the machete was mere inches from Shae's throat. Everyone made fun of the way Samara's eyes could bulge in fear and stress. Well, they would laugh if they could see how this whore's eyes were nearly coming out of her head. The woman didn't dare move or speak, just bulging eyes and sweat leaking past whatever cheap perfume Shae wore. But Samara didn't dare make her Master any angrier at her. Stepping back, she went to kick the gun towards Raff.

"Good girl, I am very pleased with you. Put the machete back where you found it, little pet. My most loyal little thing, aren't you?" Raff spoke to Samara but his eyes were on Shae as he started to approach her. "Sweet little girl, your Master is going to reward you for your loyalty and for showing me how much you love me. I'm going to let you help me question our extremely naughty slave. Except I don't think she is a slave at all. Would you like to help your Master find out, Samara?" The girl nodded eagerly and hurried to put the machete away and assist her beloved Master.

Shae had managed to extract the blade from her destroyed eye and remove the rest of the bindings upon her. Stumbling to her feet, she crouched, hoping to fight her way out.

Panting, her eyes darted around. That tiny gun only held one bullet and the weapons closest to Raff besides the gun were all non fatal. It was the girl that was near the machetes and oh, gods, was that a fucking chainsaw? It was and it was only a foot away from that crazy well ghost. The blade was Shae's only weapon and her left awkward hand was slick with blood and she didn't want to think about how her right wrist was OPEN and her good hand dangling like chopped meat.

Raff began to pace about her, getting closer and his eyes glowed with the joy of breaking someone. His voice was reasonable, calm and full of promise. 

"Don't be stupid. You can't possibly think to fight me, or to take on my rabid little dog? And then get upstairs past four killers? If you surrender now, there is still a chance for you to live through this. I'll give you a chance, a true bit of mercy. I don't give mercy often, so you really should pay attention. If you drop the blade, answer my questions, I won't kill you..or let my little girl give murder a try. I'll let you become a true slave, no acting involved. I'll train you personally then you will remain here as a house slave. It's a kindness, dear. Ask Samara, she would tell you that it's best not to anger me. And to be grateful for any kindness or mercy I offer."

Raff's eyes seemed to burn and Shae shivered.

"I can't." Shae said with the tone of a child that must complete a terrifying dare. She started to weave a little, her eyes darting quickly around, hoping to find any advantage about her.

A loud growl seemed to fill the room and Raff glanced at his girl, who was apparently turning into a werewolf. Samara was crouched and pacing, her eyes were focused, teeth bared and her hands were twitching as if they wished to hold a weapon or rip through flesh. "Good girl, Samara. Hands and knees. Good girl. Master wants to play with the bad, ungrateful bitch. You can help after Master is done. I haven't had a nice challenge in a bit. Come on then, not so pretty anymore killer."

Shae hissed at Raff and watched as Samara went to the ground. Those creepy fucking eyes bulged out of the curtain of hair and tracked Shae's every move.

Forcing herself to focus upon Raff, Shae prayed to the Faceless God to somehow help her out of this fuck up. It was useless, there was no way she could make it out alive this time. One thing that Shae wasn't good as some others with was torture. Shae could only tolerate a certain threshold of physical and mental torture before breaking. Waif had been concerned about that as well when she was in training at the Home. Could Waif truly have kicked Shae out because she wasn't able to truly do this job safely? Was she trying to save Shae's life and not ruin it?

Raff smirked watching the girl begin to doubt herself and he started to stalk her more aggressively, aiming the little gun.

"We can play if you want to, pretty thing. Now this has one bullet, where should I shoot you? Hmm...somewhere effective. Do you have a preference of what you would like me to shoot? I want to be fair about this fight. Or, would you like to surrender? I'll let you. Just drop that tiny blade and get on your knees. I will let my earlier offer of mercy stand. Last chance before I come for you." Shae shook her head and frowned.

"Fuck you. I would rather die than be your fucking slave. I would rather die than look like that thing you have there...drooling fucking maniac. At least I'll go down fighting." Shae spat and continued to weave, trying to stay out of reach. Raff gave a small chuckle.

"No, you won't go down fighting. You'll fight and lose. Then you'll be restrained in a way you cannot escape from. And I will interrogate you and you will give you up your information. And then I think since you want to die so much, I'll most certainly make you into a slave. Hell, I'll even let my girl help teach you what broken means." Raff gave a chilling smile as Shae started to panic.

"So, did you want to pick where I shoot you? No? How about this then?" Raff aimed and fired.

Shae tried to throw herself out of the way but felt the pain of metal sinking into her thigh. It may have hit the bone, Shae didn't know. She was on the floor and trying to drag herself to a position to use her blade. Raff walked over after dropping the gun and then his boot came down hard upon her thigh, the heel digging into the bullet wound. His eyes glowed happily when Shae threw her head back and screamed. "Say that you surrender. It's that simple, that easy, girl." Raff cooed as he ground the boot down harder.

Shae tried to plant her small blade into Raff's calf with every inch of her strength. At the awkward angle she only managed to give a shallow long cut that only made him wince a bit. As if he were given a paper cut.

"Just kill me, I won't give up, you cock-sucking piece of shit! Every time I had to pretend to respect and obey you made me sick to my stomach. Worse was when I had to try to not giggle at your pompous, arrogant fucking strutting around and icy orders to everyone. Go on, kill me, golden little boy, I'll never be a slave for you." Shae taunted, still trying to stab him with her pathetic blade, hoping to goad him into her death. 

Samara cried out in horror at Shae's insults to her Master. Raff's fine features seem to thin out and his bones seemed to sharpen in his anger. His eyes became intense, pinning his prey, focusing as if he can already taste her flesh and his smile looked like the wide sharp mouth of teeth ready to rend. Samara went as low as she could to the ground, forehead against it, whimpering in fearful worshipful submission at this most dangerous and painful of looks.

Raff's voice was very smooth and as deadly as a fine honed blade.

"You know, my family has a saying that I rather enjoy. I rarely get a chance to say it but thank you for giving me one. The saying is more of a warning than a motto really. You don't want to wake the dragon. Sounds silly, doesn't it? Like a thing you'd say to a child you were telling a story to, or trying to scare. But in our family, you really don't want to wake the dragon. I'm going to show you what it means to wake the dragon. You've awoken my dragon and you are about to burn for it."

Shae discovered her screams had a much larger range than she had thought.


	96. A Full Savage Moon

Shae could only smell blood, charred flesh and her own piss.

She moaned and shook her head back and forth. Why won't he kill her? Why won't that that little cunt of his kill her? The more Shae tried to anger Raff into killing her the more he injured her, when Shae tried to taunt the crazy bitch into it, Raff simply called the girl off.

The pain was terrible, the fear of what came next was worse. She had no idea what she looked like, but she was sure that getting dates or even a job will be pretty fucking difficult. Samara ripped most of the hair out of Shae's head. This was after she helped her Master use a hammer and nails on Shae's hands and feet to secure her to a new cross. One without the padding, just hard, splintery wood. 

Raff personally was more terrifying than his girl for once. After he made sure the nails held Shae along with tight leather restraints upon her wrists, ankles and forehead, he carefully prepared. He had Samara remove his nice clothing and bring him a jumpsuit from one of the workbench shelves. Then he had his little demon bitch put fine stitched leather gloves on him before he came back to Shae with a sharp smile on his face.

He used pliers to remove all her back teeth after he used his fists on her for awhile. Samara heated up a few things under her Master's instruction. Of course, when Raff finally turned away from his torture of Shae's mouth, she slumped in relief hoping for a small reprieve. Raff turned back to Shae holding a flat iron and she knew that any mercies or reprieves were long gone off the table now. The left side of her face was burnt and she passed out.

One adrenaline shot later and Shae was screaming while piss ran down her leg. The pain was incredible, it was huge and Raff had to punch her three times to get her attention again. "Look. This is a syringe full of painkiller for you. Who hired you to kill me? Answer one question and I'll give you the medication." It took everything Shae had to not crumble and agree. It was killing her to shake her head and spit out, "No! Fuck you! Douchebag! Fucking bastard, stupid sick fucking freak!"

Samara instantly cringed down low as her Master's anger raged forth like fire again. "You don't fucking learn well, do you? I hate slow learners."

Raff snapped at his pet and the girl ran to retrieve more things.

Shae lost an earlobe, four toes and then Raff started to let his pet play. Slowly and carefully Samara broke all of Shae's fingers. Then she bit down hard and removed Shae's pinky. Raff slapped Samara's nose to make her drop the small appendage. "No! It isn't healthy to eat raw meat. Besides, if anyone should taste Shae...it's Shae."

It was after Raff force fed her finger but before Samara got to use the chainsaw that Shae broke. The girl had it in her hands with her eyes begging Raff for permission. Shae knew that Raff would let the girl cut limbs off until Shae answered or died. 

"Okay! I'll tell you. Don't let her come near me with that chainsaw! Don't let that bitch carve me up with that!" Shae was screaming and even with missing teeth, mushy with blood and swelling, Raff understood her. "Samara, put that away and lay down." The girl seemed a bit disappointed but obeyed instantly.

"Now, who hired you to kill me?" Shae sobbed then coughed out another bloody glob full of snot and small flecks of crushed teeth. "Sansa Stark."

With a smile, Raff caressed the bloody, burnt wrecked face.

"Thank you, dear. Now, I am going to let you sit here in your agony for a little while before I call the doctor to patch you up. You need to feel the pain for a bit longer, dear. I want you to really understand what a very bad idea it would be for you to ever dare cross me again in any way.  I am going to leave the lights on and let you have some water before I go upstairs. As I told you earlier, you will remain a slave, a real one this time. And you won't be receiving privileges that allow you to run away like you think Piggy and Samara have. Then again, once you see what you look like now, you won't be so quick to want to try and let anyone outside of this house see you anyway."

Raff rinsed out her mouth and let her drink some water. He left the light on and made sure that the restraints and the nails in her flesh were all tight.

His last act before leaving the basement was having Samara set up a mirror for Shae to stare into until someone returned to remove it. Samara was thrilled to hear Shae's screaming all the way up the stairs.

The horror with a half melted face and a bloody eye socket, the mouth a swollen drooling mess that produced tormented sounds.

 

Gregor watched as Sandor and Brat entered. Everyone was just sitting at the table. Gilly and Irri were serving the men. Both tried to ignore the painful pinches, ass slaps and general molestation every time they went past Joss.

Piggy was a mess, in terrible pain and sweating with the stress of trying to cook for so many so quickly. Luckily, he had frozen a huge quantity of Dusten stew and baking some bread, adding a flavored butter garlic paste to the bread seemed to be enough to fill them all. 

What also caused the extra work and stress was making Polliver a small personal baked pot pie of his own, his favorite dish. But by some miracle the boy managed to get it all cooked and on the table before anyone complained of hunger.

Samara had come back into the kitchen to help in time to help with serving the food. She said nothing of what happened downstairs but gave a chilling grin to Piggy. "Is she dead?" He whispered and Samara shook her head.

Now Piggy stood behind Polliver's chair listening hoping to hear about Shae's torture. Samara was kneeling next to her seated Master, her head was on his thigh eyes half closed. No help there and before anything was said, Sandor and Brat showed. Piggy actually had to turn a groan into a cough.

Sandor greeted Shitmouth affably and simply glared at Joss. Rudely, he pointed at Brat and said, "Her name is Brat. She is Gregor's daughter and my niece. Try to go near her and I'll castrate you." Brat gasped.

Joss looked her over then back at Sandor with his eyebrows raised. "You know, you two don't seem like you are related. Oh, did you have a relationship before Gregor adopted her? Oh gods...that is so.." Joss burst into laughter and Sandor stomped past him. As he did his large hand swatted Joss's head hard enough to make the man stop laughing and hold his head in pain instead.

Sighing loudly, Shitmouth reached over and his paw enveloped Brat's hand.

"I'm Shitmouth. Nice to meet you, Brat. Should I offer condolences on being adopted by that evil version of Mr. Clean over there? Look how fucking small you are compared to these fucking assholes and yet I think you have bigger muscles than our Joss does." Brat smiled at the gruff man and decided to sit with him for dinner.

Raff told them that Shae was a hired killer sent for him by Sansa. He stared at Brat who glared back. "What? You pissed her off the way you changed her old friend. I didn't know what she was going to do but I understand why she did it."

Gregor rolled his eyes and grumbled, "Well, you clearly aren't dead, or even injured. Maybe it was a warning more than an actual intent to kill? You can't murder or maim my partner. Find another way to handle it."

 

When the meal was over, Gregor reminded the men not to stay up too late. He expected them all in the backyard in the first blush of morning. Standing, Gregor looked at Waif who had stayed kneeling and silent unless he needed something. Without a word he started to head for his wing and he knew she was following.

The perfect pet until this day and it was a mistake really. Not a rebellion, in fact it was a small mistake under normal circumstances. 

Shaking his head and frowning deeply, Gregor thought of the carnage.

The memory of the reckless, senseless destruction of such a fine blend of human and reptile skin. It isn't easy to flay a human nor capture and flay a rare albino dragon it is even harder to find someone to create such a shoe. Finding someone that can repair such things is almost impossible. If it weren't for his deep connections, Gregor would have to throw out the shoes and that was just too much too bear. 

He cannot allow his fondness and growing affection for his slave overshadow the destruction of such material. It must be made clear that Gregor's possessions are very important and should be cared for carefully. They should never be left somewhere vulnerable, unattended. It can never happen again, Gregor simply won't tolerate it.

Waif was holding her breath, nearly tiptoeing after him, wringing her hands.  What will he do to her? The extreme fury has calmed down but he seemed colder than ever before and that deep frown on his face had her worried.

 

Sansa bit her lip, she was almost there and then she heard the bedroom door open. Ah, fuck. She came anyway, her whole body tensing beneath the bubbles in the tub. Tyrion came into the bathroom, stumbling slightly. "Sorry to interrupt your...oh. Well, I've been interrupted at that a thousand times. Probably says a bad thing about how often I do it. Well, some of those interruptions I was with another person."

Hissing, Sansa glared at her rambling husband then deliberately sunk under the water. Sadly, when Sansa emerged, her husband was still there. "Where's your entourage? Why couldn't you go tell them your story instead of bothering my private time?"

Helpfully, Bronn called out, "We are out here in the bedroom. To give you privacy."

Sansa tried counting to ten before speaking.

"Wonderful. Tyrion, what do you want?"

Furrowing his brow, Tyroin raised one finger and spoke with an important air.

"It is something that couldn't wait. A problem. An emergency that has been worrying me all day. This was the first chance I had to tell you of it." Sansa nodded encouragement when Tyrion said nothing further. "And what is the emergency that had you worrying all day?" She prompted and still nothing.

Tyrion frowned. "I think I have forgotten."

A curse came from the bedroom. "Riots, Sir? Threatening letters? Dead animals nailed to Tywin Lannister's gate this evening?"

Sansa shot out of the bathtub naked and called out in a clipped tone, "Thank you, Podrick."

Tyrion stared admiringly at his young wife's soapy body. 

With an exasperated sound, Sansa narrowed her eyes at Tyrion. "Get me a towel please? Why didn't you come to me right away? When did this all happen? Why was I not notified?"

Tyrion handed her a towel, taking his time while his eyes ate what he owned but couldn't touch.

"Well, it was on father, in my property so my father only notarized...no, notified me.  And then I contacted Petyr who ass..." His slurred voice faltered. "Assisted. We had things well in hand. As for the rioting I was only informed during this thing with the dead dog or possum or thing. After I spoke with the weasel and got my father to calm down, I had some drinks to relax. Then I came here to tell you of it. We can tell Gregor of it at the meeting tomorrow and-"

Sansa fought not to beat on his stupid fucking face. "Are you joking with me? You haven't even told Gregor of this? You and your father and Petyr decided not to tell me or Gregor? Are you crazy? A threat was made on our property and you don't tell the man who protects us all about it?"

Tyrion shook his head. His voice grew a bit sharper and clearer.

"No. I didn't. Because he is the reason for the riots, that created the people who are threatening us. We need to make him change his ways, Sansa. Or give the running of our factories and warehouses to another. He is going to cause our works to crumble. If this gets any louder, if our crowd hears it, it could get very ugly. It can cost us a good amount of our standing."

He was swaying but his eyes, there was a dark sober piece, a watchful one that never seems to get drunk.

"I didn't tell you...because you deal with Gregor more than I do. And you are a lovely, clever young lady but you don't know everything yet. There was nothing for you to do about the dead animals at this hour. You can help by persuading Gregor to calm down, to allow others to run things concerning employees. To stop putting slaves in place of quitting or fired staff. Stop injuring, torturing, killing and or firing those who do not agree with every aspect of their job! To stop chasing folks around town to burn out their meetings. They accidentally burnt out the Women's Auxiliary meeting last week! You were the one that partnered with him, you said you can control this. Well, control it!"

Sansa cursed and nodded. "I'll speak to him privately before the meeting. And for now on I want to be notified any-"

Now it was Tyrion's turn to cut her off.

"No. As I said, you are a clever young girl. A dangerous, smart wife that is too young to know that she isn't able to take on and handle every single thing. You have enough on your plate. And now you have a new mission to focus on, getting the Mountain to stop smashing the shit out of our hard work. You are not the leader, Sansa. It is equal among us and Gregor, remember? And I am your husband and I'm also older, therefore wiser than you. Trust me when I tell you that taking on everything by yourself will lead to downfall. Goodnight."

After Tyrion, Bronn and Podrick, who gave a sympathetic glance back, all left, Sansa screamed into a pillow for ten minutes.

 

White hot pain lanced through her body, Waif shuddered. Drool, tears, snot, blood, copper filling her mouth. Her breathing was jagged and words held no meaning. Sounds came out of her jerking, twitching body and Waif had no idea anything felt like this. The worst best part was how her body reacted to the agony. She had come to orgasm five times during it all and it was loud and apparent.

Gregor seemed both utterly delighted and confused by it but he certainly took advantage of it. After the second time, Gregor caught onto the signs and started to fuck her while torturing her the third time. He came to her writhing, screaming in such terrible pain and pleasure. Then twice more and she was left to hang like a limp rag on the hooks.

"You will never again be so careless with my property."

Gregor showered and dressed before going back to Waif. She sobbed and twitched while Gregor removed the hooks in her flesh. Blood welled in so many places, so many hooks in her back, shoulders, thighs all holding her up off the ground. Two in each breast, they hurt the most as Gregor worked them out.

"I do not like slaves that don't listen. Slaves that do not care for my items correctly. I have liked you from the start. Don't make that change. Do not make me have to hurt you like this again."

Waif sobbed and nodded pitifully as Gregor inspected the small flaying work he did on a small part of her lower back.

"We shall let Qyburn treat this."

He snapped Waif's limbs back in place, her arms and legs were almost out of their sockets. A large hand swept over the contusions and deep bloody bite marks all over her body. Her flesh tried to shrink away from his heavy touch, swollen, bloody and tender, the flesh begged for mercy.

Gregor soothed her as he continued to asses the damage. Her stomach was now lined with raised purple, a design created by a brutal strapping. All over her were burn marks from Gregor's cattle prod. Waif was in terrible pain, she was incredibly sorry for upsetting Gregor and she was still twitching.

The twitching wasn't from pain or guilt, it was aftershocks from such incredible orgasms. Waif knew she would never upset the man again on purpose. On the other hand, Waif kind of hoped it happened anyway.

 

A poker game was in progress. One by one, they dropped out to get some sleep. Soon it was down to Polliver, Joss and Shitmouth.

Brat wasn't comfortable enough yet with the new men. She liked Shitmouth well enough but Joss sent every alarm off in her female senses. He will discover soon enough not to fuck with her. But she was tired and had to be up early. Better to wait and let Joss try something when she is awake and can kick his ass properly for him.

Sandor walked behind her and she snarled out, "I don't need your fucking shadow! I can protect myself. Good night. Go away, Uncle Sandy."

"You are such a little cunt, you know that? Don't call me that shit, either. You DO need my protection. I know Joss, you don't! He has been Gregor's personal assistant for years. He was trained by Gregor personally. You have been mostly trained by us, his men. You take on Joss, he might end up not just raping you, but killing you! Hell, you might be dead before he fucks you. I'll make sure that Gregor let's him know you are off limits. It might not be enough though, Joss loves a challenge more than anything else."

Sandor was speaking to a closed door. He swore and punched a hole in the door before storming off to his own room.

 

Raff came back after awhile and sat down for a last beer. He had cuddled and praised his girl then explained he understood she was a good girl that didn't, wouldn't ever destroy her Master's property. Then he reminded her she did speak without permission. He smirked as his sobbing Samara nodded and pressed close into his chest for comfort. 

"Since you have been trying so hard to be a good pet, I am going to show you mercy, love. You aren't like that very naughty thing in the basement. You would never be anything but grateful for my mercy, would you?" He chuckled as Samara whimpered and shook her head.

"Good. I have decided to not sew your mouth shut for speaking without permission. Instead, you can go through my bad girl box and pick your own punishment. What do you deserve, sweetie? Hmm?" Raff watched as Samara timidly peeked into the dreaded box. It was one that no slave ever enjoyed seeing opened.

To his surprise, Raff watched Samara pick an object up and drop it into his palm. It was a brand with the sigil of his family on it. She screamed when he branded her. He fucked her afterwards, while she cried from the deep burns. Raff came to her pain and submission.

Samara endured the lava eating through her skin. She was marked now, she has taken down the cunt who tried to take her Master. Her Master was pleased with her and called her his little attack dog. His guard dog.

He said he loved her then he marked her. Samara thought of his wonderful words, the mark on her skin and the pain she doled out to the girl downstairs. It made her wail her pleasure out and Raff praised her for it.

Raff laid her in the bed afterwards, rather than the cage as he had originally intended. He tenderly swept her hair back and he kissed her nose. "My little girl is dangerous when someone threatens her Master. That pleases me. As long as you remember you are always my cowering, scared pet. You won't forget that, will you? You may speak."

"Please, I will never forget that! I am your loving girl, your good girl, at your feet! I just want to please you, to serve you. I won't let anyone hurt my Master! But I won't forget I am just your obedient, groveling bitch." Samara trembled and licked his hand.

Raff smiled without dragon teeth and Samara whined gratefully.

"Good girl. Go to sleep, I'll be back soon."

 

Raff watched in amusement as Shitmouth announced, "These are the friendliest house girls I have ever met."

Irri and Gilly weren't stupid. They knew they were fair game. Since they have arrived both Sandor and Polliver have used them. Sandor was gruff but nice and even tried to let the girls enjoy themselves. Polliver just grabbed one of them wherever they were and dragged them into his room. He wasn't a sadist but he wasn't caring if they got any enjoyment or if they were being hurt.

It was Joss that made the girls wary. He was a sadist through and through and both wanted nothing to do with him. So all night they have been vying for Shitmouth's attention.

Piggy hid behind Polliver, trying to stay out of the reach and sight of Joss. He felt bad for the girls but hoped Joss got one of them so he would leave Piggy alone. Piggy only came out of his hiding spot if Polliver wanted something.

The last time he got his Master a beer, Joss managed to brush a hand down the boy's back. Piggy squealed and decided to sit on the ground next to Polivar's chair. Piggy winced, it hurt his buttocks and tailbone to sit. It was opposite of where Joss sat and Polliver laughed over it. He ruffled his boy's hair. "Don't worry, he is just teasing you. Joss is sad because NO ONE wants to fuck him."

Irri gave a triumphant smile to Gilly as she sat upon Shitmouth's lap. His hands ran down her slender body and she wound around him like a snake. Polliver snorted. "Man..she never did that for me." Shitmouth chuckled and he tickled Irri. "That is because you have no finesse. You have no idea how to please a woman. If you are a greedy fuck, no one wants you." 

Gilly was yanked over to Joss by the front of her shirt. She kept her eyes down and her mouth shut, didn't dare to fight or run. It would be easy to kill this praying mantis but Gilly can't take all of them and she would blow her cover. Fuck, she will have to suffer this douche nugget.

"You aren't very pretty and your body isn't all that amazing either. Compared to the one on Shitmouth's lap and the one dragged away to the basement, you are plain. Of course, next to Piggy, you are pretty enough to win a beauty contest. And I don't know if you are prettier than Raff's pet. Her body is freaky, I can enjoy freaky quite a bit. But her hair covered her face so I don't know if she was pretty or not. Well, you'll do, I guess."

 

Before Joss took Gilly to his room, Raff asked him a favor.

Joss grinned. "What do I get in return for this little favor? Can I play with your girl for payment? She must have one hell of an endurance and education. I 'd love to test it." Raff snorted, "Not a chance in hell will I ever let you touch my girl. Cash or one night with one of my other slaves...a special one, a disposable one if need be." 

Joss grinned brightly and squeezed the shuddering Gilly in his arms.

"Sounds good. I'll give you specifics of what I want later. I'll take care of your other issue tomorrow. Right now, Glenda and I.."

Raff cut in. "Her name is Gilly."

"That's what I said. Gweyn is going to give me a special welcome to my new home." Gilly internally sighed and outwardly gave a timid nod and flinched when Joss pinched her nipple hard. Oh, why couldn't tonight have been the hit? Why did she plan it for tomorrow night?

She hoped this cocksucker didn't injure her enough to make her hold off on her kill. Gilly has had quite enough of this place and wants to complete her mission and get the fuck away from this hellish place.


	97. Small Windows of Chance

Gregor watched the line up and he barked out, "Changes to be made as of today are not to be argued or questioned. Notice we have no one on our punishment list yet? First one to even so much as look disappointed about their position is going to be first up for some serious fucking pain. Understood?"

Everyone nodded.

"Shitmouth and Raff have the factories and warehouses today. Brat will watch Sansa and I expect you to listen and report everything she says to anyone. If she talks in her sleep during a nap, if she sees anyone besides the reflection in her mirror, I want to hear of it." Gregor waited for Brat's nod before moving on.

"Sandor, you are with Tywin and I don't need to repeat what I just said to Brat, right? Everything Tywin says or does I want to know. Don't let the man say you cannot follow him everywhere but the shitter. Joss, you are with me today. Polliver, you are heading up South on a little mission. You are doing a retrieval and a kill. Don't ever say I didn't give you anything special."

No one dared to show disappointment if they felt it over their jobs, but Polliver was nearly leaping in joy over his assignment.

 

Piggy packed Polliver's bag while biting his lip. "Why can't I just go with you, Master? I'd keep up and help you. Please..if I stay here, Joss will get me." Polliver snorted. "How could you help me, stupid? Are you going to make me coffee and clean my bloodstained clothes as I kill a man and kidnap a boy?"

He laughed at the thought of it and sneered at his pet.

"Joss has two slaves he can play with anytime he wants. He is just teasing you, stop reacting to it. I warned him off, you heard me and so did every other person here. Raff, Brat and Sandor will protect you, even Gregor would protect my property from him. Now I want you to do your regular chores. I want you to do your cooking and cleaning. I want you to use your extra time to give my room a real proper spring cleaning. If I hear you were caught smoking or I hear you mouthed off to your betters, you'll be regretting it. I'd better get a glowing fucking report, hear me? Huh? Yeah?" 

Piggy cringed under the almost painful whacks from Polliver.

"Yes Master! I will behave and do my chores, all of them! Please!" Polliver stopped hitting him and gave a rough tousle and yank to the boy's hair. "Good Piggy. Now finish that bag, I need to leave tonight."

Without another word, Piggy continued packing his Master's bag. He bit his lip hard to hold back his frustration and fear. Polliver doesn't understand, of course not. His arrogance doesn't allow for it. He told Joss to leave his pet alone and therefore it will happen.

Polliver is an expert in bullies and their victims. He is not an expert in sadists and Joss is a sadist through and through. The man could have a harem of slave girls to choose from and he would still come after Piggy. Because he knows Piggy is terrified of him and the terror turns him on. Because Polliver said he couldn't.

Those two things alone will make Joss come for him as soon as Polliver is gone. All Piggy can do is hope that others come home first. He will have to stay around other the others and then lock himself in Polliver's room the second he can. Polliver was touched when he was heading out the door and saw his Piggy nearly in tears.

"Aww..don't cry, Piggy. Master will be back soon. I didn't know you were going to miss me so much. I forgot that you don't know a world without me anymore, do you? Just obey your rules and do as you are told. Be a good boy." Polliver tousled Piggy's hair and left.

 

Kevan entered the Lannister estate as Sandor was listening to Tywin bitch at him. "I am just asking you if this is to guard my life as my employee or are you here to spy for my _partners_." The word was so acid it was a surprise the flowers upon Tywin's desk didn't wilt.

"Sir, I was told by my brother, my boss to watch over you. I am sure you are aware that there is at least one it on you that we know of. I am here to try and prevent anyone from killing you. That means I must go everywhere you do until Gregor tells me otherwise." Sandor's voice was short on patience, it was a sarcastic low grumble.

This argument has happened four times over the last hour.

Sandor was ready to invite killers via marquis signs on top of the Lannister mansion then hand out maps to anyone who comes to the door as to where to find Tywin. "I want to know why Gregor isn't returning my calls about this." Snapped Tywin as he angrily started to type upon his keyboard.

With a heavy sigh, Sandor said for the umpteenth time, "Gregor is very busy today. He will be at the noon meeting, Sir."  A beep on his phone made Sandor look down. "Excuse me a moment, Sir."

Sandor moved to a corner of the room and spoke with the technician watching the cameras. "Sir? Your brother and his two men are here. Do you wish to see them?" 

Tywin nearly sagged with relief to hear his help has arrived at last. Clearing his throat, Tywin nodded and drank some of his water. "Yes. They are here to collect Dusten's remains. I must comfort my brother in his time of need."

Sandor couldn't imagine anyone less comforting than Tywin. Hell, Gregor was kinder than Tywin and that was saying something.

Kevan entered along with his men. Sandor stood sleepily against the wall behind Tywin's desk. He was fully prepared for Tywin to try to make him leave saying that the men will keep him safe.

Just like before, Sandor waited to be dismissed. Yet, unlike last time, Sandor won't give in. Gregor wants Sandor to stay with Tywin unless he says otherwise.

Sandor, Harold and Bob all nodded amicably. Tywin hugged his brother. "I am so very sorry, Kevan." The hug was brief and then Tywin tried to shake his brother's shoulder firmly in some brotherly gesture.

Kevan moved away and Tywin seemed relieved by it. "Have you found my son's killer yet?" Kevan asked as he watched Tywin go to the wet bar and pour them each a drink.

"Gregor is working on it, our technicians our scouring all data and media that might have picked up anything. Also, Petyr is sniffing about in his usual corners for word of anything. We shall know something very soon." Tywin handed his brother a drink and directed him to sit on the small sofa in the large office.

Once both men were settled upon the couch, all the men took up new positions. Sandor was against the wall closest to Tywin and the Agent Smiths were behind their sitting leader. As Tywin continued to speak of revenge and new nameless leads the men all appeared to sink into comas. Kevan shook his head.

"Things went so bad so fast. I should have seen it coming. All of it is so....sinful, rotted. Your daughter and son were sinning and you looked the other way. They were kids that sinned and committed small crimes that you ignored. It turned into larger rotted things inside them. It killed your daughter, it infected and killed my son. How soon before it kills your Jaime? Thank the gods that you hated Tyrion. It kept you from sparing the rod on him, it kept him honest and he lived to be anything you were not. And even he...the corruption got him enough with drinking and whoring. Now at least he is married and the drinking and whoring are kept under some control. And Tommen, that poor misguided lad."

Tywin gave a burst of angry laughter. "If you are implying that Tyrion was the best of the lot than you are more foolish than I thought you were! I wanted your assistance and backing against our enemies, instead I get you insulting my family!"

Kevan smiled sadly. "Tyrion was smart enough to take control over your companies. Your most despised son, a girl and your own employee managed to take you over. I would have come just to watch that alone. But I am not helping you this time, brother. No more. I am here for my son's head, please. And for this."

Kevan calmly had lifted the folder containing the information about his son they had gathered so far and shot through it. Sandor only saw it at the last second. He shot as well but he only managed to get Kevan Lannister's arm.

Harold and Bob riddled Sandor until he fell into a bloody heap. Careful to avoid the brain splatter of Tywin and the blood pool of Sandor, the men helped their leader out of the room and over to Qyburn for medical treatment. The crooked doctor was given a good bit of money to pretend he never saw or treated Kevan Lannister.

 

Waif watched from the peaked roof as the two men helped hurry their leader to Qyburn's new clinic and home in one. The former barracks has become the new clinic and the luxury home of Gregor's was now Qyburn's. Using binoculars to scan the windows of the Lannister home, Waif saw in the study what she suspected.

Sandor was dead, Gregor will be furious over it.

Then there was Tywin himself with his head mostly gone. Good. That was good because Waif had sent Gilly home as soon as all the men had left the house. She saw what Joss had done to the girl and made the decision.

"I will do the job for you, Gilly. Leave right now, here is some money, I want you to head straight to the home. Travel at night and do so lightly. As soon as you get there, tell them to the ring the doctor. I will pay for all the treatment and plastic or reconstructive surgeries you might need."

Waif had wrapped and packed the girl's wounds the best she could then gave her some stolen painkillers.

"Use them sparingly but use them or you'll never make it home. You are Raff's property as far as he is concerned. He'll send his men after you, so use these and run fast. Leave now." She gave Gilly a kiss on the forehead and watched as the silently sobbing girl staggered, fell, staggered, then walked, then ran.

 

Irri, Piggy and Samara watched and said nothing at all.

"Irri, finish your job today or tonight. When it's done you leave for home as fast as you can. Take care of Gilly." Irri nodded and went off to make her plans in between her cleaning which was halfhearted today at best.

Watching Raff scream at Joss this morning about paying for damages to property did nothing to make the others think they were safe from the sadist.

Now Waif knows the games have really begun, the killings are starting on every side. She doesn't have to worry about killing Tywin. Waif now just has to worry about keeping assassins from taking out Gregor.

She was starting to wonder why she didn't just take him out herself and get the reward? Or just leaving them to their own destruction and going home to care for poor Gilly. There is no way that girl will ever work again. 

By the time she is fixed up, all the mouth surgery. Never mind the internal injuries that Waif could detect.

The girl might even die before she makes it to the home which is what Waif suspects might happen. Or the girl will be so weak that the slavers catch up to her. Then her death is a certainty. Waif could leave now and make sure Gilly makes it home quickly or at least to a hospital.

Instead Waif began to take stock of all weaponry in the home and think on how to turn the house into a death trap if need be. All to protect a man who thinks she is his slave. Am I in love or have I gone crazy? Waif suspects it might be a bit of both.

 

Piggy babbled his worries and frustrations to Samara as they slowly walked to the market on the back roads they always took.

"Joss is coming for me and there isn't a fucking thing I can do. I mean, I can ask Brat if she can help me out, stick around me when she is home but I'm still a target when she isn't around. Did you fucking SEE Gilly?"

Samara nodded then ran her fingers along scars on her arm.

Piggy swallowed hard.

"Telling me that she didn't look quite as bad as Shae does, doesn't help me feel any better. He'll come after you too. He figures as long as he pays the damages to our Masters that it will be alright. He will hurt us both, Samara. And we have no fucking way to stop it." Samara made fast angry movements on her scars and the boy shook his head.

"We can't! This time we could get caught. They didn't know Dusten was home yet when we killed him. Joss is pretty noticeable and he is Gregor's fucking personal assistant of all things! If his head is found, you can bet your ass they will look for his body. And they would notice that it sort of happens at the same time as another cooking marathon from us? Yeah, they aren't stupid, Samara. What would Gregor to do us for killing and making everyone EAT his men? Never mind our own Masters!"

Piggy was frustrated and walked faster.

As they headed into the market area, Piggy mumbled to Samara, "Only if there is no other way. There has to be another way or a miracle that gives us enough time to do it without suspicion."

Samara simply nodded and headed towards the fruit stands as usual. While the girl handled produce, Piggy went to see the butcher with his list.

"A bigger list than usual, we have extras now." Piggy said cheerfully to the old man with a bloodstained apron. The gnarled fingers took the list. "No issue, we can fill this order. I will have my boy drop it off to you tomorrow morning say, around ten." Piggy smiled, thanking him.

He checked out the herb stands while Samara finished picking out vegetables. Piggy got some new fresh seasonings and then paid for their order. He was thrilled that they came out with change. Usually they spent every cent of their budget here and at the supermarket. They began to carry the bags home.

It was a nice beginning of summer day so they took their time. Stopping to let their feet out of the crocs they were allowed to use for outside walking to walk in the creek that parallels the road. Suddenly someone called softly, "Hey there, Hot Pie. Jeyne."

 

Irri waited until the pets left for market before she headed out leaving her last housekeeping job for good. She made her way to the house Sansa and Tyrion were using. Brat left with Sansa an hour before, Irri had been careful to watch for them to leave.

It took some time for her to climb up and make sure there was secure footing near Sansa's bathroom window. Irri took some tools from her belt and went to work on the window. To her utter delight, the window was unlatched, half open and only needed a few touches. This window was hers now and she climbed through to examine Sansa's bathroom.

 

Brat spent three hours in corporate hell as Sansa shook more hands and spoke more than did any actual work. Sansa berated her sister for not dressing better, for not hiding her gun better. At first Brat was grateful when she heard about going for lunch until Sansa brought her to restaurant hell.

Through the younger years, Arya learned to behave in the best and worst of restaurants and she despised it. Brat agreed still with Arya that fast food or Piggy's homemade cooking was good enough. Of course it wasn't a private lunch, no, half the staff stopped by to join them for some time. Brat ignored the salmon pate, the asparagus tomato surprise as well the strangled duck that stared at her.

After the lunch that left Brat hungrier than ever they headed for the house. "I want to shower and change before meeting Tywin. I can hear your stomach grumbling. I'll have the driver stop at the nearest fast food drive thru." Sansa texted and talked on her phone while Brat wolfed down a double cheeseburger and a chocolate shake.

"Ugh, how can you eat that? Consider your job and your body? Now you will be all sluggish and do you know how much exercise it would take to work that off?" Complained Sansa. Brat belched at her and grinned. "Guess we'd better hope no one tries to kill you then. I might take a nap to ease off this grease and fat now."

Brat sat in Sansa's room on the divan while her sister headed into the shower. She had already checked all the windows and doors of each room her sister entered, taking her job seriously in spite of taunting Sansa. Idly, Brat flipped through her own phone, listening to Sansa in the bathroom preparing to shower.

Irri waited until Sansa was in the shower before slipping back out of the towel cabinet. She slipped into the shower and the garrote was around Sansa's neck as Irri was hit by warm water. The redhead was bulkier by Irri by only a bit but the height difference and desperation allowed Sansa to struggle. Instead of trying to stop Irri, instead of giving in to the pain and loss of air, Sansa started to crash her shelves and throw shampoo bottles at the tiles.

Brat has occasionally heard something drop from her sister's shower. They shared a bathroom between them for years. Unlike herself, Sansa was big on keeping a neat and orderly bathroom. If something drops, Sansa might give a small curse and pick it up. Sansa isn't clumsy and things don't drop often around her.

She was in Sansa's bathroom and putting a bullet through the killer's head a moment later. Sansa was choking, bleeding, the garrote had started to carve into the flesh and her eyes were bloodshot. Brat texted for Qyburn to hurry, alerted Gregor and then noticed what she didn't have time to before. The person with a hole in their head was Irri, a house slave at the Barracks. She texted Raff too.

Tyrion was called from work to rush home to tend to his wife. It was only moments later that Sandor and Tywin were found.


	98. Not Even A Little Lube To Make It Easier

Piggy can't catch a break, he never could when it came to bullies.

They seemed to fall from the trees, crawl from rocks and hang out wherever he tries to go. Polliver is gone, the others are no where about, Samara has never seen Piggy as anything but a respected equal. He and Samara were taking just a moment to cool their hot feet while pondering large dangerous issues.

And here come the bullies. They always show, Piggy should've known better than to let himself stray.

Three large stupid young men came grinning out of the trees, having followed these two from the market.

"Hey there, Hot Pie, Jeyne. How have you guys been? Glad to see you out here, not locked up in chains. Of course, those are thick collars on your necks. We could remove those for you. Permanently. Why don't you chat with us for a little bit about it? If you can just give us some information, we can-" Luthor Frey watched open mouthed as Jeyne grabbed Piggy and they began to walk back to the road.

"That was fucking rude of you. Listen to me! We are trying to save you fucking stupid cowards! Trying to take back the North, folks risking their lives and what are you? Fucking traitors or just pathetic whipped dogs?"

Little Walder sneered as he caught up then blocked them. His brother and a Wildling buddy were flanking the pair.

"We don't have to be nice about it, you know that right? Huh? Hot Pie? You don't want us to make you blubber and beg in front of the girl, do you? Easier just to tell us how to get in the fucking estate. Soon as we get in you can run away. Or hell, if you want, tell us what we need and we can find a place to hide you until its all over. See how reasonable we can be?"

Little Walder gave a large insincere smile full of yellow teeth that begged for braces.

Piggy tiredly spoke to the three men.

"It's very reasonable and I am appreciating it. Really. But I can't tell you anything and I can't run. They would find me no matter where I went and they would find you too. Go back to the Riverlands and forget the North, it's not your worry. What do you care? You are supposed to be doing business with the Lannisters, thought Frey and Lannister were good."

Giving a nasty suck to his teeth, leaving spittle bubbles to form on the largest buck teeth in Westeros, Little Walder retorted.

"My father had a deal with Tywin but its not him in charge anymore. Every deal they made was undone by those other three cunts." Luthor got in Hot Pie's face. "Plus we have relatives working in those fucking sweatshops that they run!"

A stubby finger began to jab into Piggy's chest hard over and over.

"You remember school, asshole? Remember those fun times, huh? I am trying not to be like that to you today, I'm offering help but if you won't stop being a fucking pussy, I'll beat the information from you. Is that what you want, you cowering cunt? Answer me!"

Piggy wasn't cowering actually, he was watching Samara from the corner of his eye. No one else was, they discounted the silent girl as a broken, possibly retarded thing.

When they had been forced to a halt, Samara had let go of Piggy and went still, head lowered. Hair covered her face and her twitching away from the loud man was considered normal.

They were all busy surrounding Piggy whom they knew had a voice and was easily bullied. They had all gone to public school together and Piggy remembered them quite well. And if he hadn't known Polliver, Tickler and all the others he would still be afraid of these bullies.

Piggy stared defiantly at them all.

"I can't help you. I won't help you. I'm not for you, I'm not for the fucking North. I'm into survival these days." Luthor stared with his mouth open outraged. He grabbed Samara, finally noticing her and started to roughly paw her.

"Are you into letting girls get gang banged in front of you? Can you watch us fuck her, beat her and kill her? How are you going to explain that to your fucking Masters later?" 

With a cruel smirk that none of these boys ever saw on Hot Pie's face, the boy sneered, "I only have one Master, Polliver. I only serve him....and myself. As for the girl, no, I can't watch you do those things to her. Because it would be impossible."

They stared at the young man that wasn't a sniveling schoolkid anymore in confusion. This isn't the way it is supposed to go and they felt like telling their victim that.

"What the fuck are you yammering abOOOOOOOOW!" The repulsive man letting go of Samara went into a full howl as he held his intestines in his hands.

She spun out of reach then waited as the Tully charged at her then she danced, slashing with her knife. The man began to turn red and he yelped finally backing away. He grabbed a large rock and lobbed it hard at Samara's head. Dodging, the girl caught it hard on her shoulder and gave a snarl of pain.

While Samara and the Tully had a deadly game of dodge rock, Piggy found himself in his own battle. When Samara started to fight with the men, Little Walder turned to watch. Piggy was ready when the man finally turned back it was to recieve a large branch in the balls. As the man started to sink, eyes bulging incredulously, Piggy giggled nervously.

Then he rammed the end of the stick hard into Little Walder's throat so he fell arched, scrabbling at his throat. It wasn't more than a small bloody mark, but it must feel like he was unable to breath. PIggy was only sure that it was something to keep the man down for a minute.

Piggy tried to hit the Tully with a stick but the man who was holding his coiled insides tripped him by accident. A coil of intestine had unraveled and the glistening tube tangled around Piggy's foot.

He went down hard and bit straight through his tongue, the pain was sharp and exquisite. Blood bubbled over his lips and chin as the Tully turned from his rock throwing to try and stomp Piggy's head with his workbook.

Samara seemed to object with the new game of Roll and Stomp.

Piggy flung himself around to avoid the boot and rocks begin to pelt the man from behind.

"OH, YOU COCK JUGGLING THUNDER CUNT!"

The man screamed as one rock found the back of his head. He grabbed his head and his hands came back bloody. Seething, the man turned and started to charge at Samara.

Piggy staggered to his feet and grabbed his branch to go after the man. As he picked up the branch, the injured Walder wound a hand around Piggy's ankle.

Something in Piggy broke into a million pieces.

It was Hot Pie's final plea and Piggy's first war cry.

"Motherfucker, why can't you all just let me have this win?"

Piggy swung the branch with the force of years of being forced to stand with his pants down.

All the years of put down's, gross outs, shitty pranks, being forced headfirst into a toilet, having his ass hair duct taped during gym classes, those countless possessions he watched others destroy that he couldn't protect.

Being forced to eat frozen dog shit in an alley, kicked, punched, spit on, forced to eat dirty booger crusted tissues because its fun to watch him cringe and cry. The years of laughter, insults, commands, curses and disgust.

This was the force of the branch that whacked into Little Walder's head.

The man was dead before he hit the ground, one eye lazily wandering to greet the brilliant sunlight.

A wretched scream and Piggy turned to see Samara on top of the squirming, pleading man. Panting, Piggy lurched over and pulled her off him. He had bite marks and slashes everywhere. Samara herself was sporting a new black eye and several other raw patches here and there.

"Stop! We need to leave, run home now. Hurry, two are dead, hurry, we need to get home. Run, run!" Piggy pushed Samara ahead and they both ran for their lives. The wounded man was right behind them, screeching and ready to exact revenge.  It wasn't often that Piggy thanked Polliver with true sincerity.

But in this moment, as they ran for their lives, Piggy was thanking his cruel Master with all of his heart. He was thankful that Polliver wouldn't let him smoke, made him learn endurance, made him lose weight and forced Piggy into physical labor. Samara and Piggy ran for home with a furious man behind them. 

 

 

Tyrion went to the wet bar in his room, right after speaking with his wife and Gregor.

He poured a drink with a slightly shaky hand and went to take a large gulp.

The drink was swatted out of his hand, Tyrion was liberally sprinkled with wine as he stared at Podrick. "I understand that we are all a little nervous. It makes us forgetful. But you see, Podrick, the wine...it goes into my mouth not on my person."

Bronn yawned and rolled his eyes as Podrick nearly yanked out his own hair.

"You are living among the enemy, Sir! Your wife poisoned her fiance who was in her way, remember? You are in her way! She could be the one who had your father killed because he was certainly in the way! Gregor and Sansa might be together or separate but either way both will want you dead. Don't you understand that? You must take more care! How about we go down to the wine cellar and you can pick out unopened bottles? Sir?" 

Tyrion narrowed his eyes at Podrick then nodded.

"Very well, you are correct. I should take more care but I could do with your lessons causing less drama and cost to my clothing." Tyrion mumbled charging for the door. Podrick made a frustrated shout but Bronn already had moved in front of Tyrion.

With a grin Bronn drawled out, "You should let your guard with the gun go first if you want to be protected. Though my bet is on Podrick dying before you do, Tyrion. The boy clearly is going to have a heart attack any damned minute."

Bronn winked as Tyrion chuckled.

With a flourish, Bronn opened the door and led the way out. With great sarcastic drama Bronn lamented, "Come on then, I just hope I can keep us alive in this house of horrors."

As expected, they saw no one all the way down to the wine cellar. Tyrion began to inspect his wines and Podrick shifted impatiently after some time. "Sir, just grab a few, please?"

"Oh, calm yourself Podrick. We are perfectly safe here. Sansa hates the taste of wine, she would never come down here. Gregor wouldn't even understand what wine is...he isn't down here. Bronn is protecting us from anything or anyone down here to hurt us. Meaning, he is protecting us from large spiders and maybe the occasional mice."

Tyrion looked up at the last second to see Bronn draw his gun and take aim at his head.

As Bronn went to fire, Podrick cursed and shoved Tyrion hard to the ground. Tyrion crawled about hearing two terrible things.

One was gunfire and the second was bottles of wine shattered and wasted upon the ground.  "Watch the wine! Have a care for expensive old things, would you? Shoot more carefully if you please!"

Bronn laughed from a distance and Podrick gave Tyrion a quick harassed glare.

Bronn shot and this time the bullet came right through Tyrion's leg. "Ah fuck, that hurts!" He hissed and saw with relief it was just a flesh wound, but it still hurt like hell.

"Sir, would you please stay hidden! I can't save you if you re trying to get yourself killed. Shut up so he doesn't know where you are to shoot you." Podrick really sounded like he didn't have his heart in saving Tyrion right now.

Tyrion nodded and curled small behind a barrel of whiskey. Funny, here was his nervous bumbling assistant holding a gun. Even more hysterical was the man knew how to use it and how to move around. Tyrion giggled and passed out.

 

Polliver shifted his feet and waited for the old crone to stop writing and speak with him. Finally, the woman lifted her head and her flinty eyes studied him and left finding him wanting.

"Gregor sent you for this delicate operation? Are you sure he isn't angry with me for something?"

Pulling himself to his full insulted height, Polilver declared, "Gregor sent me because I am the best, ma'am. Now if you'll please give me the address I need, it will be done fast and silently."

Olenna sighed and then shook her head.

"I suppose there is nothing else for it. I made a poor judgment call on leaving Tommen to Varys's care. Well, I hope someone can fix the boy. If I had any idea what the man intended for that child, I wouldn't have let him keep the boy. I would have sent him back home. Tyrion, Tywin, Kevan or Sansa, whoever survives the North can save the boy, hopefully. Or if they all fall, maybe Gregor will beat the boy into something. The kindest thing you could do is give the boy over to Kevan Lannister. See if his powers of zeal can save the boy."

Polliver listened impatiently to the woman giving advice to someone who won't take any of it.

She gave him a scrap of paper with an address written in an elegant language.

"Throw that into the fire after you commit it to whatever bit of lizard brain you might have left in that bowling ball of a head."

The crusty woman muttered as she thumped her grand cane with authority.  "Now get out before my servants get confused and try to polish that head of yours."

 

Tyrion moaned and sat up slowly. He smelled wine and gun smoke. It was a strange combination and he wanted to comment upon it but his tongue was dry and heavy. After a moment he tried to stand up and a hand was there to pull him up.

He stared at Podrick who was still holding onto the shocked man. Then Tyrion looked over at Bronn who was laying dead in a puddle of wine. It looked like he took a few shots to the chest.

"I can't walk on this leg, but I'll be damned if you will carry me." Tyrion clenched his teeth and tried to use Podrick as support as he limped forward.

"Forget this shit. Sir, I have tried to be respectful and polite as I was ordered to, but you simply are suicidal or something. Please, don't squirm or yell." Tyrion wanted to ask who exactly Podrick was ordered by. 

Podrick lifted him then and Tyrion was too busy squirming and cursing to remember to ask his question.

 

Tommen was weeping and he was curled up on the bed, still stroking Varys's cold arm.

Polliver had used great care and now he stood there just dumbfounded a little disappointed. The older man was bludgeoned to death by a statue of an angel.

"What the fuck happened?" 

The boy looked up.

"I forgot to use my safe word. He hurt me...I got scared and I....maybe I'm a little more like my family than I thought."


	99. Rabid Dogs Snarling At Each Other

Everyone was called back. No one saw Gregor or Brat right away.

Not until after Brat cried over Sandor's body. Not until after Gregor stood in the afternoon light staring down at his little brother without a tear in his eye.

 

Tyrion and Sansa had entered the room. Gregor's voice was never so cold before, never so clipped. "I am going to find out who murdered my brother. If it was either of you that put out this hit, you should pack your bags and very quietly and very quickly leave town and start hiding."

Sansa bravely went forward to stand before Gregor. "I can assure you that it was not me. I have not betrayed either of you and I don't plan too." Gregor sneered down at her and began to back her into a wall.

"Oh? I can trust you? You can assure me it isn't you? You sent a hired killer after Raff. The girl was caught and admitted it. She is still alive, wish to see her, speak in your defense? I don't trust someone who would try and murder one of my own men." Gregor waited until Sansa's back hit the wall before he turned around to loom over Tyrion.

He started forward hard and Podrick jumped in front of Tyrion. Gregor stopped and tilted his head.

"I am trying to decide if you are a new species of stupid. If I wanted the man dead, he would be dead. My men don't miss their kills. I am not about to stomp him to death, get the fuck out of the way. Whoever hired you should get their money back. Did your client know you came from a "Special" guard school, boy?"

Gregor asked almost kindly as he slowly lowered his bulk down as if to make sure the poor idiot understood his words.

"Could you go either to the left or the right? Let me show you what I mean, sweet boy. See, this is your right arm that I am going to break if you don't choose soon. And this is your left arm, that is the one I am going to twist right off your body if you don't get the fuck out of uncle Gregor's fucking way!"

Podrick flushed red but he moved out of the way, gritting his teeth. Gregor reached out and patted his head condescendingly as he approached Tyrion.

"And I have every reason to believe you put that hit out. You hated that prick more than any of us did. He treated you worse than your siblings. Go ahead, just admit it. I can understand, I do. You just neglected to tell the killer not to murder anyone else in the room, right? You would know enough to ask for a hit but not enough to be specific. Not enough to know which killers to hire and mistakes happen. So tell me the truth, was it you?"

Gregor's tone was forgiving, kindly and ready to listen. His eyes were bullets and his smile was that of a shark.

Tyrion glared up at the terrifying visage with true indignation.

"Gregor, I have wanted that man dead for years now. However, in all of my fantasies I did it by my own hand. Would you like to torture me to be sure? I would prefer you didn't but if you do, you are only going to hear the same thing. I didn't do it. If it was me, I would have killed my father with Joff's damned crossbow while he was shitting on the toilet, the way I always dreamed of."

Gregor growled in disgust then moved away.

Sansa looked shaken but resolute, her chin up. Her words were cold and honest.

"I admit to sending someone after Raff. The girl was very cheap and it was meant to be a warning shot. I knew she would mess up the job. I was very angry at him for what he has done with my friend. And I know about how he gave those poor girls to Joff, he was the supplier for Tickler. For all these houses, he is a human trafficker, it is sick and I refuse to accept it here in the North. It was a warning shot to him to cease and desist. I cannot change what he is or what he has done to Jeyne, but I can block him from his trade here."

Tyrion groaned and covered his face with one hand. "Oh gods, Sansa just stop talking now, please. You are just digging your grave quicker. Why would you be so rash? Why didn't you speak with me first?" Spinning around, Sansa stomped towards Tyrion.

"Just like a damned man. Silly girl, why are you so temperamental? Heads up, Tyrion, it isn't my period nor am I having vapors. Did you not hear me say he is a slaver? A trafficker of humans turned into property? Many of them die, Tyrion. Others get turned into whatever my poor friend has become. Our factories and warehouses have more slaves than workers now. Did you know that? I just found out yesterday myself. Gregor has been allowing it all along. Our homes are full of servants that are slaves, Tyrion, surely you've noticed that? The girls here that you tickle and fuck, they have no choice, they are slaves. Every single time you sleep with them, it is rape. They have no say. Do you comprehend that, you pathetic, wine soaked fool?"

Sansa was now backing Tyrion up. Podrick got in Sansa's way and Brat couldn't help but burst into laughter. "Oh gods, that poor boy is going to have one hell of a time guarding you, Tyrion."

Brat suddenly discovered what it was like to be dope slapped by the Hulk.

"Shut the fuck up, girlie. Who invited you to the conversation? Did someone request your damned input? No? Get the hell back to the Barracks and round up every damned slave there. Raff should be there soon. I want them all questioned. Even Piggy, Samara and Waif. All of them. Go."

Brat growled out, "Yes Daddy Dearest" which earned her another whack on her ass this time to make her yelp in pain and turn red. She was still trying to compose herself as she saw Petyr entering. Brat thought on attacking him but then saw he was being led by Joss.

"Great, two creeps at once." Brat grumbled as she pushed past them to head down the stairs and out the door.

 

Raff was driving as fast as he could, careening into the drive way. The text from Gregor was urgent, that was the first one. Come home. Urgent. He entered the house to see Brat pale and pacing in a circle, texting a person over and over. "What the hell is going on?" Raff yelled at Brat. She stopped and stared at him trying for the short version.

"Irri was a hired killer too. She tried to kill Sansa but I killed her. Gregor sent me to round up all the slaves here. Tywin is dead and  Gilly is gone, Raff. So are Piggy and Samara, they should have been back from the Market thirty minutes ago. They have never been late before. The only ones I found were Shae in the basement and Waif calmly polishing banisters."

Brat watched as Raff cursed and then snarled out, "Keep your eye on Waif and text the handlers in each house. I want a count on every slave and have them all rounded up. I'll find Piggy and Samara, there is no way in hell they would run away. They wouldn't fucking dare. But they'll regret lazing around or whatever the fuck they are doing!"

 

His father is coming North to talk about gods knows what and this shit is all Raff needs. For his father to meet a furious Gregor, he can see it now. "Hello father, excuse me while I finish taking my rectal infusion of something acidic because I fucked up way too many times yet again."

Raff drove up the back road that he has instructed Samara and Piggy to take when going to the farmer's market. There was no way in hell his pet or Polliver's could be assassins. Sure, Samara can be brutal and deadly to protect him, but that was already ingrained. Damon had taught her to be a hellion and Raff just focused it. He was positive. Also, Samara loves him now, there is no way in hell she would run away.

And Piggy? Remembering the size of Piggy when he showed up at the Barracks there was no way in hell that he was a killer. That boy was a coward through and through. He wouldn't defend Samara if they had been bothered. But would Piggy run away if given the chance? Polliver has gone away after all, maybe the boy saw his chance. What if he was approached like Loras had been?

Then Raff's crazed thoughts came to a screeching halt along with his car just before he plowed through his own pet and Polliver's. He saw the man chasing them come to a sudden falling turn then run the other way. Growling, Raff waved the two panting pets out of the way and he drove after the man. Screaming the man tripped and Raff went over him, backed up and went over him again.

Piggy and Samara leaned on each other and tried to breathe. Limbs trembling from exertion, adrenaline starting to fade and Piggy whispered, "Raff doesn't look real happy. We are late, I think." One eye stared deadpan at Piggy then shaking fingers played fast along scars. Sniffing, Piggy said stiffly, "Be all cranky if you want at me. But there is no call for that kind of language."

Raff rolled the car up next to the pets. "Get in now. Move." Samara whined softly as she got in the front passenger side as she always does. Piggy clambered fast into the back and started to babble. "Sir, we were on our way but the Freys found us, they wanted me to tell them stuff and I said no. Then they said they would rape and beat Samara, so she and I had to attack them and-"

"Not another word or I'll hurt you worse than Polliver ever has. We will visit the basement and I will hurt you for every word that comes out of your mouth from this moment forward. If you understand I want you to nod." Piggy nodded then he ducked his head and cringed back into the seat.

Samara shook and huddled low in the seat, the dragon was awake and pissed. She didn't dare even move without permission while Raff was in this state.

She fervently hoped that Piggy kept his mouth shut because Raff would most certainly follow through on his threats. Piggy is her only friend and it would hurt her to see him tortured in the basement. What if her Master forced her to assist him or decided she should join Piggy's fate because he is so angry? 

"When we get home you will both stay with me and then you will stay wherever the hell I put you. If you have any self preservation at all boy, you will stay quiet until I tell you otherwise. Then you will speak only the truth and you will not dare stray from the questions put to you." Raff glanced into the rear view mirror and glared at the boy.

Piggy paled but nodded again and pulled his legs up to his chest on the seat. Satisfied, Raff finally glanced towards his girl huddled in her seat belt. She had blood on her in streaks. "Let me see your face and eyes. I want to know if anyone hurt you." Samara meekly moved her hair out of her face and her eyes rolled up slowly to meet Raff's. Whining softly, she let him see the cut on her lip and the bruises and scratches.

Smirking, Raff caressed his girl's face. "I forgive you for being late, loyal, good girl. You are such a skittish little thing and those men wanted to hurt you, to take you away from your Master. I always want you to fight anyone that wishes to take you from me, tiny little pet." Samara's eyes filled with grateful tears and she leaned into the brief and fleeting touch.

 

Kevan sat stiffly next to Walder Frey and Edmure Tully.

"Your sons are morons and if they were slaughtered it was their own fault. If they had patience they would have had time to see me show up. I am aware of your little rebellion and I have decided it is a good cause. Most may turn a blind eye to the sickening sins rising in the North as it did in the South. The main criminals that started it might be dead but the new rulers are no better. I will help you with all details of the estates, where the cameras are, the weak spots, every detail of all three homes. If you lose, I never helped you, you never saw me. If you win, well, that is a whole different story.  I will be happy to leave you two and the others the run of estates and your mill-houses or whatever. Here is what I want."

The men listened.

They looked at at each other. The lunatic really wanted so little for assisting with the slaughter of his family and its connections?

They are aware he has murdered Tywin, Bill had made sure to take pictures of the dead man to show proof.

They are aware Kevan has connections with Olenna Tyrell. Whose Highgarden workers create amazing wine, types of exotic produce and their florists and gardeners are artistic royalty. What they wouldn't give to trade with her and Kevan is willing to make an introduction.

"We have a deal." Walder Frey said with greedy eyes. 

 

Harold and Bob studied the rough men milling about finishing their last touches upon their costumes. As tradition from days very far gone and inaccurately played upon the silver screen, these men and a few women were dressed in paint and disguises.

Harold and Bob were never so grateful to wear their reflective sunglasses in their lives. They were also glad that they had been trained to be expressionless by their exalted leader.

When they had returned North this time they brought some of their new graduates of Kevan's reformatory school. They were wearing glasses as well but they were having trouble hiding smirks and downright laughter.

Deepening their frowns, Harold and Bob discreetly gave stern throat clearings and even a nudge or two. Finally Bob managed to speak without moving his lips or face. 

"The Agents of Sinless Freedom do not snicker and laugh at others, regardless of their actions. Unless you are watching someone acting funny on purpose there is no reason to be laughing. These men are just....dedicated in a different way. They use unfamiliar rituals when gearing for a battle. We must be accepting and be ready to help them eradicate the filth in the Lannister estates.  I suggest you start thinking of this amazing opportunity that our generous leader is offering you after we take the North for these strange folk." 

"Agent Bob forgive us but..." The youngest of the recruits tried to speak softly and without any laughter but the amused confusion was clear. "They are clowns. Not even the same types of clowns, Sir."

There were rodeo barrel looking clowns, some circus looking clowns, a few confused mimes, then logic broke down worse from there. A few rejected members of a Kiss cover band were chatting with a man that looked like Alex from Clockwork Orange. A girl that looked like Harley Quinn was loading an impressive number of guns with a grinning young Charlie Chaplin. A person who's sex was undefinable was wearing a cheery clown suit and a gorilla head. Behind that strange sight was a group of rejected members of the Insane Klown Posse.

Harold and Bob received a text from Kevan at the same time the lead clowns received their own texts. Time to go and once they were out in the dark, it happened. As the two Agents and their disciples followed the colorful angry mob towards the cars, one of the young men softly started to hum circus music.

In the dark before they reached their car, the two stone faced Agents smiled. Ah, the innocence of youth still can give gentle amusement even in the darkest of times. Kevan teaches this and the men all bravely follow the clowns towards the needed slaughter of sin.

 

Brat looked out the window and saw with relief that Raff was back and he had Samara on one side of him and Piggy on the other. She checked again via text and none of Raff's workers have located Gilly. These were men trained to find runaway slaves, but they knew nothing of assassins. If Gilly was one, they won't be finding her and Brat knew it.

  Then Brat looked towards the living room where Waif had been patiently sitting. The girl was gone. "Oh come on!" Hollered Brat as Raff entered the house and Brat's phone was ringing with Gregor on the line with questions. Fucking wonderful.


	100. It's Not Me, It's You

Brat kept a healthy distance from Raff as she told him that Waif was gone. The man exploded with a roar of rage that sent both Piggy and Samara cowering.

Gregor's rumble from the speaker phone wasn't anymore reassuring. 

"How the fuck do you lose someone you are watching? Did she use magic and disappear like a rabbit in a hat? Did you get dirt in your eye and she ran like the fucking Flash? Shrink like Ant Man while you blinked? Daughter Dearest, do not test Daddy Dearest by telling me you stopped watching her. Waif wouldn't leave, she isn't the type to run away. She hasn't left, I am sure of it.  Find her and I am putting this place on lock down as of now. Any slave not found on the grounds, I want found later with bullets in their heads, Raff. Hear me? I am going to have a long fucking discussion with you later about how you brought us assassins along with regular slaves."

Gregor huffed like an enraged bull into his phone at them.

"Children, I am clearly stressed out. I am having some trust issues and we are about to engage in some serious fucking war, I think. So I want you to know while I still have time to tell you this...Viserys, you are one of my favorite men here but I am going to break a limb for your stupidity when this is over. I'll let you pick which limb because I like you. Arya, if you fail me again in anything big or small within the next few hours, I will treat you like a proper daughter. I will take away your fighting privileges for at least a month. Instead you will spend time with charity work and schooling. I will be back there very soon and I am bringing everyone with me. It will be easier to defend us all from one area. If the Freys were after the slaves, they will be storming our castle soon. So step the fuck up, the both of you!"

 

Tyrion walked into the living room after he and Podrick had changed and notified Gregor of Bronn's attack and death. He waited until Podrick poured a drink and tested it before drinking. He took a healthy swig then turned to face Sansa who was sitting on the couch with Petyr. 

"So which one of you should I thank for Bronn trying to air condition my body? And destroyed half of my wine cellar! Who would gain most from my death these days, eh?" Tyrion asked idly as he sat in a soft armchair, Podrick just behind him.

Sansa and Petyr stared at him as if they had no idea what he was talking about. "Is that where you went? The wine cellar and Bronn tried to kill you? Who saved you?" asked Petyr. With a snort, Tyrion nodded towards Podrick, looming over him with a frown.

"My former Uber driver turned personal assistant turned surprise bodyguard. I am not sure if Podrick is even his real name. Today is giving me many questions and few answers." Tyrion handed Podrick his glass with a pleading glance. With a heavy sigh, Podrick got the man more wine. 

Sansa looked at Podrick with raised eyebrows then back at Tyrion. "The person who wanted you dead the most was your father. I didn't make the hit. Who is paying your guard anyway?" Tyrion shrugged and Podrick simply muttered, "I am not at liberty to say."

 

Gregor entered the room and glared at them all.

"Everyone is going to the Barracks where I can keep an eye on you all. Too many are going missing or dying suddenly. Let's go. We are taking the tunnels. Plenty of space for everyone at the Barracks for everyone. Since Podrick is keeping Tyrion safe, I'll give someone to watch Sansa tonight in a guest room. Petyr, being in a house full of killers is safe enough for you." 

Gregor ahead of them and Shitmouth behind, he moved the bickering Lannisters, Peytr and Podrick through the underground halls towards the Stark residence. He made a pit stop at a large room full of house slaves from both Lannister homes and two handlers. The slaves were all terrified, not understanding what they have done wrong.

"Question them all. Afterwards, go get food, water and blankets from Tywin's home for them all and yourself. This will be where you will all stay until told otherwise."

The handlers nodded and Gregor continued on to the Barracks.

 

Polliver frowned first at the red light then at the text from Raff.

In between the ranting was information about how a house slave was a killer. That Gilly and Waif are now missing. Holy shit. As the light changed, Polliver ignored the kicking from the trunk and the beeping of the cars to text something back. He hit send then his the gas.

"Where is Piggy? Gregor doesn't suspect him, does he? Piggy was way too fat to kill anything but a fucking doughnut. Keep him locked in my room if you need to."

A moment later a response came at the same time another louder thud came from the trunk.

"Motherfucker." Polliver growled and pulled off the highway onto a small swampy back road. He pulled over and stomped to the back of the car. Yanking up the trunk cover, Polliver gagged on the smell of vomit.

"I tried to tell you!" Whined Tommen.

With extreme unhappiness, Polliver cleaned the trunk and the boy the best he could. His annoyance was clearly administered to the boy as Polliver tended him.

"Here, drink this water. Fucking idiot. You had everything, little boy. Family, money, I see why you'd hang at Varys's little fun parlor but once it changed....you didn't tell anyone? Did you like it? Were you just scared or ashamed? Always so quiet and timid, weren't you? Still are...compared to the other members of your family..it's pretty pathetic. And now we see you have the same madness, but it's like murder inside of a kitten. How useless is that ability?"

Polliver gave a harsh slap whenever the boy tried to move away from the dirty paper towels. "Stay the fuck still! You want to finish the trip home with vomit stuck to your face? How would that look to your uncle and aunt? Your great uncle Kevan, your aunt Sansa and Uncle Tyrion are what you have left. They will take care of you and hopefully one of them will straighten your fucking shit out for you."

He had no choice but to let the boy sit in the car with him. Tommen sat in the backseat and the effects of the sedative Polliver stuck him with suddenly kicked in. Polliver got back in the driver's seat with the boy softly snoring in the back and he checked the text.

"Piggy and Samara were attacked by Freys. They killed two of them and I ran over the third with my car. They wanted the pets to let them inside the estates. Get back soon as you can. Folks are dropping around here, slaves are killers, Gilly is long gone. Even Gregor's Waif is missing now. I need someone on my fucking side. Get home."

Polliver shook his head and threw his cell onto the passenger seat then started to drive and promptly got lost.

"Trying to get back to you, buddy. But the vomit murder kitten in the backseat and these fucking twisted roads out here aren't cooperating." He muttered to himself as he found himself upon a new road. It went too far up to lead anywhere he needs to be.

Sighing, Polliver just gunned it into the large stone circle parkway to turn around to get back on the road.

He only saw the large stone monstrosity for a moment before his head snapped back to it. A cathedral like building he has never seen before. There was nothing about it or the parkway to hold interest.

Except the sign on the side of the large doors.

And then as Polliver left as quickly as he could, he began to frantically call Raff.

"Just shut up and listen, yeah? Just went past a little place I remember hearing of. we all have. Waif's Home. Kids raised as assassins, remember? Waif. Ring any fucking bells. She fucking TOLD us who she was every time she told us her fucking NAME!" He listened as Raff cursed and then Polliver turned on the GPS for the quickest route back.

Polliver stared at the GPS that spewed gibberish at him then he sighed. He had borrowed Raff's GPS which was set to Old Valyrian for whatever fucking reason. Shit. Digging through the dashboard, Polliver found a map. Grumbling, Polliver headed for home as fast as he dared to.

 

Gregor listened to Raff after he spoke with Polliver and he frowned. "Shitmouth and Joss can see these folks settled in their new rooms. Brat keep an EYE on Samara and Piggy. Now..." Gregor hunkered down in front of his red faced daughter and looked as if he were a demented kindergarten teacher.

"When I say keep an EYE upon these two, I mean do not look away from them. I know they are harmless and innocent, then again, so is Waif, right? And you were watching her last time we asked you to keep an EYE on someone. So this time, it means don't leave to pee, don't watch the fucking windows, don't take a fucking nap, just make sure that these two go nowhere in this house without you. Do you think you understand all that, Princess? Can you do your motherfucking job for Daddy? Huh?" 

Stiffly, Brat nodded. Gregor put his hand to his ear. "Gosh darn it, I must be going deaf. What did you say, dearest daughter?"

Trying to keep the slightest shred of dignity, Brat managed evenly, "Yes, Sir. I will keep my eye on Samara and Piggy." Gregor gave a large smile and clapped his hand joyously.

"Excellent! There is hope for you yet then. And for your ass which I am going to play like a coke driven, drunk and angry Tommy Lee playing drums if you lost either of them."

 

Gregor just gestured for Raff to follow him as he headed into the basement.

Raff watched as Gregor approached the cringing Shae. This morning Raff had sent Samara down with Qyburn. The girl's damages were assessed and treated, an IV was set up for fluids and antibiotics as well as some painkiller.

The burns on her face had made it impossible for Shae to stop screaming in between passing out. Qyburn had informed Raff that the pain might weaken and shock her into cardiac arrest.

Raff had allowed the girl to have just enough painkiller within the IV line to make her stop screaming. Now she looked ready to scream again as Gregor was thundering towards her. Raff had taken her down from the cross for Qyburn's examination and strapped her to a padded table.

The catheter that Qyburn had installed within her began to do its work as Gregor loomed over Shae. Gregor frowned down at the girl and he didn't even start with the question.

Instead Gregor opted to start with pain.

He took Shae's arm within his large hands, it looked like a pale toothpick next to his paws. Then he crushed her arm like one would smash a bug caught within their hand. Raff winced as Shae screamed and Gregor then put his face in hers.

"Irri was a killer. You are a killer. Gilly and Waif are missing. They are hired assassins too, aren't they?"

Shae stared up at him sobbing and heaving.

With a sigh, Gregor crushed her other arm as she howled then blacked out. Cursing, Gregor went and filled a bucket of ice water from the metal sink near the hose. He poured the water over the girl and got in her face again.

"I understand the sacred creed of loyalty among your own kind. I am aware that if you tell on an assassin they will come kill you. But you don't have to worry about that. You are going to die today no matter what. Here is the thing though. If you tell me what I want to know, I'll make it fast. You keep fucking with me and I'm going to crush each bone in your body. Then I'll start to pulverize your fucking organs. It will take hours for you to die....maybe days if I get Qyburn to treat you. So before I start working on your legs, Gilly and Waif, are they killers?"

Shae nodded tiredly, she was done and knew it.

"Yes. I was an independent. But I came from where Gilly and Irri did. Fucking Waif...she is THE Waif of legend that all admire and fear...I don't fear or admire her. I hate her. For making me something I didn't want to be then kicking me out, telling me I wasn't good enough." She laughed bitterly and Gregor snorted.

"She was right. You are terrible at your job. Who were they here to kill?"

Shae tried to think through the pain but vomited instead.

Raff fiddled with the IV line after getting the nod from Gregor. As the morphine increased enough for the pain to recede somewhat, Shae replied.

"Irri was for Sansa, Gilly was for Tywin. Waif was here for Cat Stark and decided to stay because she fucking likes you. Can you imagine it? A woman who makes fucking kings quake with fear at a visit from her and she has a crush on a man who thinks he is her Master. A man who would treat her like a slave...that is what she goes for. Stupid bitch."

Gregor snapped the woman's neck and then he shoved past Raff. Going back into the main house, Gregor started to storm around it.

 

 **"WAIF! I KNOW DAMNED WELL YOU HEAR ME!"**  

Gregor bellowed like an enraged bull, causing the two pets and Brat to all flinch a bit. Raff had come up, Shitmouth has come downstairs and they stared at Gregor as if he'd gone mad.

"Sir, she is gone, same as Gilly. We checked everywhere, Brat looked, I looked and so did the handlers. She's not here or on the Lannister estates." Raff said softly but Gregor just continued to walk about.

"Oh no...she is here. The other one might be gone, but Waif isn't. Tell him." A voice from everywhere and nowhere responded.

"You don't have to scream like that, Master. Of course I am still here, yes."

"Wonderful, you can throw your voice too. So many talents you have dear, come here so we can discuss your talents, Waif."  Growled Gregor, but his body stopped tensing as badly upon hearing her voice.

Sharp with amusement, Waif's voice floated her reply back.

"I don't think that would be a very healthy or safe idea for me right now. I think we can talk just like this for now. I guess I should stop calling you Master now. Pity. I quite enjoyed it, I quite enjoyed you but I suppose you will be angry with me for the bit of deceit I played. You are right, Gilly is long gone. I sent her home after what your monstrous man did to her. I told her that I would kill Tywin for her, but alas, someone else had saved me the trouble. I saw Kevan Lannister shoot Tywin and your brother. I was doing recon when it happened. The North is coming for you, Gregor and so is a hit. I don't know who took it, I had warned my own girls and boys away from taking it. And I've stayed to help protect you. I am sure that wounds your pride. I'm sorry for that. I guess this is like a break up, isn't it? I wish it wasn't, I've enjoyed being with you." 

Gregor tried to process only the facts, ignore his rising heated emotions. He has never felt a man or woman reduce him so well before besides Tywin.

Pride wounded? It went way beyond that and he ached to get his hands on that deceitful, arrogant little bitch.

But he had to concentrate on the facts first.

"Kevan Lannister killed Tywin and Sandor. You are positive it was Kevan that murdered my brother?"

"I watched it through a rifle scope. It was very fast, your brother didn't suffer, the men in sunglasses emptied their guns into him. Kevan shot Tywin in the head and Sandor managed to get one bullet into Kevan's arm before he was killed."

"And you didn't think to tell me this earlier? You didn't find it interesting enough to pass on?" Gregor yelled in frustration and hurt rage.

Waif's voice sounded sad and regretful. "I'm sorry but...I will admit to this being my first act of cowardice. I wasn't ready to face you with my own truth, of who I was. I have spent time spying on the Freys, the ones that were bullying the other bullies into going after the pets. Once I figured out they will be attacking tonight I began to set up some booby traps for them. I have left yo a map of them on the kitchen table so your men won't get hurt by them."

Gregor's voice was lower now. It was menacing enough to make everyone else in the room take a step back. 

"You knew who killed my brother and said nothing. You knew we were being attacked tonight and said nothing. You pretended to be something you are not, even after your job here had ended and said nothing. When you and I sort this all out, I am going to take our your tongue that way saying nothing will be even easier for you." 

Maddeningly, the floating voice assured Gregor, "I will never allow you to do that to me. Everything I did for you, I chose to. Every time you hurt me, I allowed it because I enjoyed it. If you had tried to do something I felt was a danger to me, I wouldn't have let you. I do hope that you'll forgive me for this deceit someday so we can meet again under better circumstances. I have never had a boyfriend or Master before. It was more exciting than I expected and so were you. You still are to me, even though you are angry, hate me and long for my death. But right now, you need me. You are going to need everyone who can fight because they are all coming. Kevan, his men and I think the birdie I have watching for me must have gotten some translating wrong. She doesn't speak common. She said there was a large group of angry clowns heading for us. We have very little time before the attack, Master."

"Don't call me that! If I were your Master, you'd be down here groveling for forgiveness at my feet." Gregor snapped and Waif gave a small laugh.

"I would do so but I would not benefit from any broken, crushed or dislocated bones. Also if I am tied, chained, caged or knocked out, I cannot assist you in the battle. And these are all likely things you would do to me if I were at your feet right now. Sadly, I wish you could be my Master. During vacations and holidays, I could come back as your slave. Once I am assured that your temper has cooled, of course."

The vein in Gregor's forehead pulsed and he did something none of them have ever seen before.

Waif had come into view, she was up on an alcove area on the third set of stairs.

Gregor managed to stun them all as he utterly lost his shit.

Raff, Brat, Shitmouth, Piggy and Samara who has wrapped herself around Raff's leg, watched with open mouths at the strong, invincible, impervious to human emotions lose his mind.

They further bulged their eyes and felt their chins hit the floor as the emotionless, calm Waif lost her shit right along with Gregor.

Fuck Kevan, fuck clowns, this was the best show on earth.

 

Tyrion and Podrick have locked themselves in the guest suite shown to them by Shitmouth. Tyrion drank while Podrick texted someone as he frowned with displeasure at his rapidly drinking charge. If he managed to keep this man alive it will be a true miracle indeed.

He made sure all windows were locked and heavily covered with curtains. Podrick then barricaded the door for good measure. All they could do now was wait.

So Tyrion drank and Podrick passed silent judgement.

 

Sansa was shown into her new suite by Joss.

The man has been nothing but coldly polite since Gregor had introduced him as his personal assistant. She has heard a few stories about the man but luckily he was being a gentlemen. Good, Gregor must have explained to the rapist and sadist that she was off limits being a partner and all.

It wasn't the situation Sansa thought at all.

Moments after Sansa started to unpack her few items that she had time to bring, Joss had used his key to unlock her door and enter the room. He was on her before she even knew it was happening.


	101. Don't Pee On My Leg And Tell Me It's Raining

Sansa tried to struggle but Joss was a bit of an expert on getting his prey down and where he needs them. He shoved her face into a pillow, knelt on her back and used his right knee to nudge her dress up and right hand to rip her underwear off.

"If you want me to let you breathe, you will shut the fuck up. Otherwise, I'll just smother you. Turns me on, those last desperate twitches for air. Want to play that game, love? I am sure Joff played all sorts of games with you. Where they taught to him by Tickler? He was a good buddy of mine, you know. I just want you to know, it isn't personal for me. This is fun for me and all but it isn't personal for me. Do you know who this is personal for? Raff. This is his response to your sending a killer after him. Very naughty of you. He supplies all the maids that care for your helpless pretty little rich ass. Raff kept Joff from ripping you in two by giving him slaves at no cost. He has guarded you and even let you visit with his little pet. This is how you thank him, by sending someone to murder him?"  

Sansa muttered something into the pillow and Joss lifted her head by her hair bun that was rapidly falling apart.

"What dear? I didn't catch that and remember, no screaming." Joss had a shit eating grin on his face that Sansa dearly wished to rip apart with her sharp nails. "If Raff is upset with me, why isn't he man enough to come see me himself? Why send you?"

Joss laughed and commented, "I could cut through that disgusted tone with a knife. Very good. Now, do you prefer ass or pussy? I am thinking to sample both. Don't worry, I brought condoms for the occasion. I am sure you are grateful for my thoughtfulness."

With a simple practiced movement, Joss was pulling himself out of his jeans and was hard enough for the condom. Sansa gritted her teeth when Joss forced himself inside of her.

"Amazing that you can still be somewhat tight considering what Joff did to you. Tickler used to send me chats so he could describe what Joff would do to you. And what he did to the girls he killed. You were luckier than you ever knew, darling. I expected you to be wide enough for me to hear an echo...but no."

Joss thrust against her, insulting her even as he deliberately moved in a way to hurt her, to bring forth her small cries. Sansa cried and buried her face into the pillow. He grunted and thrust above her, still taunting, he had no idea the door was opening. The person took in the situation with cold anger then shut and locked the door before attacking.

Brat was on him before he could react to her presence.

 

Lollys was pissed. She was past tears, she was past sadness and depression. Easier to be pissed that have your fucking heart ripped out.

So she was here, dressed as Harley Quinn and with an automatic rifle as well as a small hatchet and some hidden surprises in her pockets. She wasn't from the North or the Riverlands. Lollys was from Flea Bottom, the slums of the South. Married to Bronn for eight years now and living out of different trailers. No one ever pays attention to white trash. As killers, they had to be very careful.

They had done rock, paper, scissors to see who took the hit on who. Oh, how Lollys had laughed and taunted her beloved husband when he got Tyrion and she got Gregor. This would be their last big job. They had decided they wanted a baby and they couldn't keep putting themselves in danger. Plus, it made their child a target.

Last week they used the money they stashed away to buy a house far off in Dothraki. As far from their enemies and contacts as possible. New identities, permanent ones were created and everything was set. Now it was useless, it was all in ashes. Bronn did not contact her when he should have. Lollys had known in her heart then he was dead, before she even ran into Gilly.

The girl recognized Lollys and told her all that she knew.

It was easy enough for Lollys to slip into the group of wild angry Northerners.

Her make up was heavy and there was no one here who would know who she was. It was easy enough to act and speak like them. Lollys wanted to get to Gregor first. Then she will find the fucker that killed her Bronn and make the death so slow and painful.

She intended to then make sure the entire fucking place burned to ash.

Patting her pockets, Harley Quinn gave a howl that the others mimicked as the trucks raced towards their brutal nights work.

 

Gregor grabbed a gold plate that sat on a shelf and sent it with great speed at Waif. She ducked and it stuck in the wall behind her. "This is not the time for your tantrums! I am sorry I cannot soothe you with massage, oils or a good caning upon me but we are in danger here."

Every word that came from her mouth made him see red.

"I trusted you, bitch! I am the one betrayed and injured here, not you! Don't you dare to manage me or censor me, Waif. You are an unfaithful, deceitful, lying, murderous woman! I cannot believe that I would be so used by a woman. You are going to pay for that!" Gregor stared as Waif glared at him then yanked a blade out of her belt and it flew at Gregor's thigh.

He leaped out of the way, swearing as it grazed across his pants, almost but not quite catching on the material.

"See, that is what really gets you. Hurting your fucking clothing, right? Not your heart, you don't even have one, you bullish, fucking screaming drill sergeant from hell!" Waif was yelling now and angry tears flowed down her cheek briefly then were gone. She began to move about, gesturing at Gregor as she ranted.

"How dare you? YOU are the injured party? YOU THOUGHT I WAS A SLAVE! YOU TREATED ME LIKE SHIT! YOU BOUGHT ME AND TREATED ME LIKE PROPERTY.  How are you the injured person? I fucking pampered you! I took care of you and I never asked for a thing back from you. I stayed when I didn't have to, Gregor. That should count for something. If you were a human being it would count for something. But you aren't fucking human, are you? Super Fucking Mountain, can't tolerate that a female tricked him. You can't see beyond that. All body and not enough mind to do so."

If Gregor had hair he would have ripped it all out of his head.

"Are you really speaking to me that way? Am I dreaming or maybe I have a fever? Raff? Am I dreaming, did I accidentally take one of Polliver's special drinks or something? Hmm? No? Oh. Waif, you want to shut the fuck up and run away now. I'm coming for you and when I catch you, I am going to hurt you very badly. You won't be working for quite some time. Traction is going to be a necessity after I'm done with you."

Raff and the two slaves were still watching the sudden soap opera in silence.

Shitmouth left to patrol, bringing the blueprint from Waif with him to find the booby traps. Brat had gone to put weapons in each different vantage point in case attackers get close to or inside the house.

 

The room they put Sansa in had a balcony that led to a perfect view of the garden and the back road gate. 

Brat had opened the door and that is when she went ballistic. She had to continually remind herself that she cannot truly damage nor kill her new father's personal assistant. So Brat was careful to rap the back of his head hard enough to stun him with her dagger handle. After he fell off of Sansa, Brat pulled her up and helped steady her.

Coldly, Brat pulled away when Sansa tried to hug her.

"No, you'll cry and get hysterical. We don't have time for that, we are under attack by the North. Go shower, I'll get him the fuck away from you and make sure he understands not to come back." For a brief moment there was something in Sansa's eyes. A mix of regret and sadness then it hardened like stone. "Sorry, I forgot Gregor's rules. Just like Jeyne and Hot Pie, you are changing into something else, not my little sister."

Shrugging, Brat responded, "Same back, sis. I mean, you sold me, Sansa. What do you think, I'd be okay with it? I'd forgive and forget? Did you forgive and forget when our parents sold you into marriage or the other countless other things they forced you into? Gregor knows that I can't save you if I am too attached. It's a good thing you took care of that problem for us, huh?"

Sansa grabbed her robe and then shuddered at the torn flesh between her legs. She fired out her shame and pain at her sister. "Guess I'm just lucky that you didn't blow my head off like you did to stop the last rape you saw. At least your reactions have gotten better. Your mentor and father must be thrilled with you."

"Oh fuck you, bitch. Go shower while you have time to." Sneered Brat as she threw a teddy bear at Sansa's head. Sansa turned to yell at her sister and paled. "Behind you!"

Too late.

 

Drogo waited, two of his most trusted and deadly Dothraki silent and waiting with him. They were going to find their own way in until they saw the Northern idiots about to plow the way for them.

More than one hit was out on Gregor Clegane and Drogo wanted to be the one to reap the rewards of it. The money will be good but even better for Drogo is to put another skull on his wall. A kill like Gregor Clegane will be impressive to all.

"Here they come..get ready." He growled out, revving the engine on his motorcycle. Giving cries of battle, they roared up to plow through the rushing clowns and enter the fray.

 

"You suck! You cock-sucking chauvinist pig! We don't have time for this!"

Raff moved the pets out of the way just in time as a vase came crashing down. Piggy tried to crane his neck to see as Gregor chased Waif up the stairs. Raff moved them again as Waif suddenly was down on their level and Gregor was staring down confused. 

"Holy shit! She just leaped all that way! Holy shit!" Piggy gasped before Raff slapped him upside the head.

"Shut up. Not the time for fucking commentary if you want to keep your head on your shoulders. Waif or Gregor might twist it off like a cap if you don't keep your opinions to yourself." Raff lectured as he shoved Piggy into another room and pushed Samara in too then shut the door. Raff couldn't tear himself away from the sight as Gregor started to throw things to keep Waif leaping about as the large man came rushing down the stairs.

Gregor stopped his rush near the bottom of the stairs when Waif pointed a gun at him, clicking off the safety. "Notice that I am not in your slave outfit you chose for me? I am in full shirt, pants, jacket and full of gear. Are you that angry or just that stupid, Gregor? Don't make me shoot you."

Shaking his head, he grinned and took another step down. "You won't kill me. You stayed to protect me, you said. Seems silly to have stayed to protect me then kill me anyway, doesn't it?"

Waif shrugged and let all the air, emotion and heaviness leave her body as she prepared to take the shot.

"There is no way for me to incapacitate you enough without killing you. It would be really sad for me later. But I can't let you kill or maim me, Gregor. I wanted to help you but not at risk to my life. So either stop or I'm going to be the last thing you ever see." 

Gregor and Raff both saw her empty eyes and both froze where they were.

"You win. For tonight. Run away fast while you still can, if I survive this fuck fest, I'll hunt you down later. Go on then, leave." Gregor dismissed Waif without another glance and headed back up the stairs, hearing a thud and muffled shout.

Looking hurt, Waif didn't bother to remind Gregor that she wasn't leaving until it was all over. Instead she turned to Raff and opened her mouth to offer instructions or advice when the world tore itself apart.

The explosions all hit nearly at the same second and everything in the house shook and crashed. Piggy and Samara held onto each other, looking out the windows. Piggy' eyes narrowed in confusion. "Are those.....clowns?"

 

Gregor had sworn and clutched the wall for balance as the world exploded outside. "What the fuck?"

"Those traps I set? Yeah, they just all hit the trip wires on their three ways in. I don't think my bombs took out enough of them though. Everybody best get ready to fight, Gregor." Waif hollered up the stairs.

"You think? I don't need you to tell us when to fucking fight, bitch!" Gregor roared before breaking down the door to Sansa's room where screams and a gun just went off.

"In case you can't hear the fucking explosions, we are under attack. No time for whatever this shit is between you fuckers..." Gregor's words died in his throat as he looked down at Brat. Then he looked up first at Sansa who was pale and kneeling next to her sister.

His eyes then landed upon Joss who was holding his gun, still pointed at where Brat had been standing.

"It was a reaction...I'm sorry." Joss muttered as Gregor stared at him.

"A reaction? Wow, you and Waif just really know how to start a good fucking battle morale, don't you? I'm going to tell you what I told her downstairs. Run or hide when this ends, because I'll be coming for you." Gregor advised the pale man.


	102. Can't We All Just...Eh, Fuck It.

Drawn out by all the alarming noises, Podrick had decided to cautiously check the hallway. That is when the world shook and Podrick found himself crawling into a doorway thinking it was an earthquake.

Embarrassed of himself, Podrick figured out rather quickly the sounds were explosions outside the house. He looked up and Tyrion was standing over, then stepping over him.

"My gods, who is playing with fireworks? The gardens will be destroyed and it sounds like a party no one invited us to out there. Did I hear Gregor yelling? You checked, right? You know, if you keep grinding your teeth like that you could end up with some big tooth and jaw issues. Do you have a blood pressure issue, Podrick? You are turning quite red and I would like to inform you that I think we might possibly be under attack." 

As Podrick stood up and tried not to just toss the damned fucking imp out the window, Joss sailed by. Right over Tyrion's head and into the wall behind him.

"GET UP AND BRING QYBURN THROUGH THE TUNNELS HERE NOW. YOU WILL CARRY  ALL THE EQUIPMENT HE NEEDS! IF BRAT BLEEDS OUT AND DIES BECAUSE OF YOU, I'M GOING TO SKIN YOU ALIVE THEN HAVE THE PETS COOK YOU FOR MY FUCKING DINNER! HEAR ME, JOSS, YOU SQUEALING FUCKING BAG OF DICK TIPS? MOVE, FASTER! HEAR ME? MOVE!"

Tyrion yelled, "We can all hear you perfectly well, Gregor! Only you can be louder than explosions. Oh, yes, why are there explosions? Why is this terrified praying mantis running for Qyburn? Do we really care to save that mad scientist? Wait, wait, he is our only doctor. Makes sense, yes it does. Who needs the doctor? Was someone injured, well, probably many in those explosions. Should we offer assistance or call the authorities?"

Gregor growled out, "Podrick, take that drunken fucking dwarf downstairs. Get him coffee or a cold shower, but sober him enough to be of at least minimum fucking use. Figures the one person here with a brain is drunk. We are in for a bad night and if shit hits the fan, it's gonna be every hand on deck. Who did you say hired you again?"

Podrick started to lead the drunken Tyrion down the stairs and he muttered, "Nice try."

Tyrion again made the suggestion that someone figure out what the explosions are and Podrick hurried him downstairs towards the coffee pot.

Gregor looked back in Sansa's room. "Stay with her. Watch her until Qyburn gets here."

 

Sansa she sat on her bed next to Brat. Her sister was pale and still but her eyes were open, bright with suppressed tears of pain. After Gregor was no longer heard pounding down the staircase roaring orders at Raff and Shitmouth, Sansa whispered, "No one here but us ladies now." Brat snorted and rolled her eyes but she let the tears fall for a few minutes.

She passed out before Qyburn came in soon enough. In a rare sisterly gesture, Sansa wiped away the tears off Arya's cheeks before the man entered the room.

 

Gregor stabbed a finger at Piggy. "You. Keep the coffee going. Make sure water bottles are filled and put on the counter. Stay away from all windows and doors. Do you know how to use weapons? I can't imagine you would know how to fight." Piggy swallowed hard and carefully replied. "I am great at clubbing, I beat up the Frey today with a branch. I fended off two abusive parents with skillets, pots and a toaster oven once, Sir."

Gregor stared at Piggy for a moment then turned away, muttering, "Well, then I guess the kitchen is your well stocked weapons room. Stay in it unless told otherwise." He looked at Samara, who cringed low, whining at his feet. Raff had taken off with Shitmouth to make sure the house was secure.

"Stop that whining, you aren't a fucking dog. I know you can't speak, I don't need anymore dramatic smart-mouth females so I'm fucking thrilled you won't talk. Just listen and do what you are told. You lived with Damon and before that, your family was connected in all the dirty ways with the Starks and Boltons. You know your way around weaponry. I want you to keep every gun loaded, make sure that if Raff or the others need anything, you are getting it for them. If you must fight to protect yourself, Piggy or even Raff, you do it."

 

The roar of motorcycles came moments before glass began shattering in the back first floor rooms. A swear came from the same area and a blast from an Uzi caused screams to the men outside. The sound of a fire extinguisher came next and Waif threw her voice so the frustrated sound bounced everywhere. 

"Gregor! Stop fucking around, please! We are under attack, feel like helping to fight your own battle? Or do you want to sit on your ass and let your slave do take care of that for you too?"

Growling at the sound of Waif's voice, Gregor roared back.

"REALLY? IS THAT WHAT ALL THE NOISE WAS? I THOUGHT IT WAS THE FEAST OF SAINT-WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU THINK I AM DOING, TWIDDLING MY BALLS? YOU WANT TO HELP? SHUT THE FUCK UP AND START KILLING THE FUCKERS TRYING TO KILL US."

Gregor grabbed more guns and brought three loaded ones into the kitchen. "Piggy, aim and shoot only if you have no choice, otherwise stick with swinging your pans...or this." He put a large steel bat rusted over with gore on the table next to the guns.

"Samara, you can shoot, right?" The girl nodded and knelt up to check and make sure they were all loaded. "Good. In the hallway I left boxes of bullets and more guns. Get loading them and passing them out."

Podrick had managed to pour most of one cup of black coffee down Tyrion's throat. Piggy was bringing another cup as Tyrion stared at Gregor, then the guns. "Oh..was the explosion related to an attack? Podrick, I left my gun upstairs, be a good fellow and get it, would you?"

For a moment, it looked to Piggy like a toss up of whether Gregor or Podrick would kill Tyrion with the guns. Gregor simply left the room and Podrick spoke primly to Tyrion.

"You are still drunk. You cannot touch a weapon until you have sobered up. And you need to hurry up because we are indeed under attack. So drink, here!"

Tyrion was the first recipient of a coffee boarding.

 

Samara began to load and then run hand guns, rifles and a liberal amount of illegal automatics to each man. Shitmouth was stationed near the library in the back. He thanked her and winked. Raff was nailing wood to the living room and dining room windows. He told Samara which specific scope rifle he wanted her to bring him.

Joss was on the second floor, trying to find a window to get some good shots into the milling crowd. He grabbed the girl's ass when she dropped off some weapons and he got the reaction of his life. Samara came up suddenly with a rifle and it cracked Joss hard on his jaw. By the time he was able to react through the pain, she was standing out of reach in the hallway.

He could hear her deep warning growl and see one eye glaring with hatred and fearful anger. A small smile creased his face and Joss wiped the blood away with one hand. "I like feisty ones, a nice challenge. I'll visit you later, darling. You and your little cooking buddy."

Samara shocked them both when she actually gave a threatening bark at him.

She ran downstairs to help Piggy prepare the kitchen for battle. Helping Piggy fill huge pans full of water to boil then checking to see who needs more bullets and guns kept Samara from dwelling on the fact that she actually just BARKED at a man. What the hell was happening to her?

Doesn't matter, Raff needs a water bottle and Shitmouth needs more bullets. And Piggy needed help with turning tables and chairs around as well as stacking cutlery, dishes and pots and frying pans up, in case they are needed. Samara kept darting to try and check where Raff was in case he needed her. 

Samara already had a few knives tucked away and a few guns stashed for herself. In case someone dares to hurt Raff, or Piggy. Or Raff. Did she really bark?

 

Waif crawled across the roof and picked off as many of the clowns as she could. They kept pouring in, they climbed over the smoking cars and trucks. They walked across their own dead relatives and comrades. Did they get bused in from all three fucking cities? The Dothraki motorcycles and jackets caught her eyes and she swore bitterly.

She knew it would do no good to try and talk Drogo out of a kill, no trade to him was worth it. Drogo wouldn't have come this far for anything less than Gregor Clegane. A quick burst took out one of Drogo's men and the imposing leader slowly looked up until he saw Waif. She didn't bother to hide, she stood up so he would see her.

He tilted his head and slowly smiled without a single iota of emotion. His eyes, thought, they had that blazing look in them she has seen before. Waif found herself grinning back. They knew each other well, both in fighting and in personality. Her first lover when they ran across each other during a job that needed forced teamwork.

It was a brief affair, it lasted six months in between jobs. They didn't work well together professionally or in any other way in the end. Waif was as dominant as Drogo himself and it didn't work when neither could step down from their personas. Probably why Waif enjoyed time with Gregor so much. Pretending, she could let herself enjoy something new without any strings attached. When she was done with it, she would simply leave.

Shaking her head at her own self analyzing, Waif watched Drogo take aim at her. Waiting until the last second, Waif moved and watched as Drogo headed into the house. Fuck. Staying out of Gregor's reach is looking impossibility, she needs to get there before Drogo does. No that she doesn't trust Gregor's skills, she knows Drogo's.

 

Podrick stood impatiently over Tyrion while the man worked on his second cup of coffee. A soft beep and Podrick checked his text message. He smiled with pure relief then looked about the kitchen. Only Piggy was there at the moment, boiling water and helping Samara board the windows.

No one noticed when he leaned down and softly said, "Okay, lets walk this off, huh? Up on your feet, bring your coffee with you, good." Podrick started to calmly walk down the back hall, past the burnt out ballroom and to the secret door to the tunnels. "What...are we fleeing? I thought Gregor wants us all to-"

With great pleasure that was surely sinful, Podrick knocked the irritating man out and carried him through the tunnels.


	103. Dealing With Karma

Lollys stood aside for a bit to plan her course of action.

She watched as the idiot Freys and Northerners got themselves blown up in the initial attack....now they are are being cut down by gunfire. Idiots. They just swarmed and charged, using their numbers as a shield. Problem is, they would run out of numbers eventually. 

Worse, Lollys could see that fucking Drogo and his battle chodes have joined the party. They have to be here for Gregor. No way would Lollys lose out her revenge to this overblown, juice head, biker savage who just wants another skull.

That alone was starting Lollys forward with impatience, then she saw something that turned her whole world into a red churning mass.

Waif. Fucking Waif.

Lollys knew that little bitch anywhere, she saw her take out one of Drogo's men and have her little eye fuck with Drogo. Not surprising, their affair had been the worst kept secret among those who live in secrets.

Waif and Lollys do not have a good relationship at all. Bronn came from Waif's home, he had been given to her by his own parents for money when he was only seven. Already a thief and a fighter at that young age and Bronn's parents had seven more kids to feed that didn't cause trouble.

Even before Lollys watched Bronn cry in terror during nightmares of the Home, she had heard stories of those trained there. They were forced into not only defense but taught to endure all manner of situations in order to stay in personae. That included prostitution, homelessness during deep winter, joining a sociopath on a few sickening kills to learn their patterns, pretending to deal with or befriend those within child pornography rings.

Waif taught folks to morph into anything, anyone but at the costs of their own physical and mental sanity. Lollys had met Waif at her wedding to Bronn. She fully believed the woman was stark raving mad and blamed Waif for any and all issues with Bronn. If Waif was here, it must be for Gregor too. And if the bitch was already on the roof, she has found a way inside. Fuck.

Now Lollys had to get past Drogo and Waif to try and get the kill.

A few moments later Joss stared out the window then screamed, "FUCK! FREY MEAT TRUCK COMING FOR WEST SIDE OF HOUSE, A HOT HARLEY QUINN DRIVING! SHE IS COMING THROUGH, LOOK OUT!"

 

Polliver tried to call Raff and got only his voice mail. Raff wasn't responding to texts, battle must be underway there. Fuck. He missed on killing Varys, now he is missing a big fight.

Almost home though, not long now and he plans on leaving the little shit back in the trunk so he can join the fun.  Polliver rang Piggy knowing the boy wouldn't dare not have his phone with him in case Polliver got in touch with him.

"Master! Can't talk! Clowns!"

Frowning at the phone, seeing Piggy had disconnected, Polliver noticed something on the other side of the hill he just crested. Wrinkling his brow, Polliver ran to the car and began to drive faster towards all the smoke. Holy shit, were they being burned out?

When his phone rang, Polliver yelled into it, "Fifteen minutes from home."

Raff yelled back, "That won't help us, not unless you are bringing a crowd of you. So get reinforcements, fucking hurry!"

Polliver stared at the disconnect signal and snarled, "Why does everyone keep fucking hanging up after cryptic statements? What fucking clowns and where a I supposed to find reinforcements in time? Oh..."

Polliver started to laugh and took a U turn to head towards the one luxury hotel that the civilized North had to offer.

 

Sansa had her gun trained on the door, hands shaking a bit. She could hear the commotion then Joss roar out his warning. Brat thrust against Qyburn to struggle to her feet. "Out! We need to be off the upper floors before-"

The world fell.

 

Gregor had already been sprinting, flying, Waif found it creepy, like seeing a bull do a perfect ballet routine. He threw Joss just before the explosion and then Waif lost sight of him. She heard female screams, a gunshot then she had to address the bigger picture.

 

"HIYA GIRL!"

A Harley Quinn leaned out of the truck, grinning cheerily and began to shoot an automatic at Waif. Well, shit. Waif ducked and weaved.

It was Bronn's crazy ass wife, a woman that was permanently stuck in PMS and was ex military. Bronn had left Waif's service to marry the lunatic and began a partnership of kills with her.

A burst of gunfire and Waif threw herself behind a destroyed piano. "I'm sorry about Bronn's death." She called out and Lollys laughed like a loon.

"What a naughty naughty liar with her pants on fire. You would have to be human and have emotions and feelings for you to be sorry for Bronn's death. Bronn, Irri, Shae, even Gilly who looked like she was dying when I saw her, you don't care what the costs are, do you? The only thing you are sorry about is losing a kill. Well, my sweet, sweet summer cupcake, I am the girl to see you sorry today. Drogo can go fuck himself, hell, he can even have Gregor if it means I get to kill you. You know, I usually don't take trophies but...I 'm going to actually take a page from that steroid ape's book and take your fucking head."

Waif flew again just in time, she skidded behind a massive chest that is half toppled. Praying it holds, thankful her weight stays so damned low, Waif spider crawled her way up it and then fired upon the Menstrual Queen. She swore as Lollys only suffered a minor upper arm flesh wound before finding cover among the rubble.

"How about we go in the kitchen and have a nice cup of tea, dear? Piggy makes the most wonderful brew, though I do think Gregor would agree mine is best. Or cake? We have cake." Waif called lightly as she carefully aimed, watching for any movement.

"Oh, thank is really kind of you, sugarplum. Normally I would say yes, I really am quite parched. And this all makes me hungry, I know! Why don't you come over here and we can go have tea together!" Lollys called back politely but did not come into sight. However, by the sound of her voice, Lollys was on the move. A blast of gunfire threw Waif off the chest and she lost her gun upon hitting the ground.

"Oh yay! Now the fun really begins! Go on and run, rabbit!" Sighing, Waif did just that and cursed the upcoming damned game. She wanted to see if Gregor was alive, but this blonde ditz just won't get distracted by anything more shiny than a revenge plot. Waif crawled into a space among the rubble then threw her voice out.

"Look, I know you think I am a cold heart but I really did care about those kids, when they were children and now. Why else would I have kicked Shae out and told her to seek another career. I gave the children schooling and their diplomas, they also learned trades in their work. She could have done anything else and if she was traumatized, she could have afforded therapy easily. I didn't send her out penniless, I gave her enough to start a new life. Do you know what their lives were like until I helped them? Your husband was a young boy about to be sold by his parents one way or another. Either to me or someone much worse."

Lollys began to shoot towards the voice, enraged by the twisted logic.

"Did I get you? Huh? Are you dead, cunt? I hope not, I want to take my time with you!" Waif came up from behind and kicked the automatic out of the blonde's hand then they rolled down a sudden shift in rubble. They hit the ground still locked in a fight to death.

 

Watching from the doorway, Piggy turned to Samara. "I think this means no tea and cake after all."

The girl gave a gagging sound and Piggy muttered, "I get funny when I'm nervous. Okay, kitchen is completely barricaded from the foyer and we just need to finish this part before any clowns manage to get past the burning truck and the rubble. Let's use this fucked up desk here, help me drag it."

That is when Piggy heard it and so did Samara.

"Help us! Please, someone, help us!"

Piggy stared at Samara. "It's Brat."

He tiptoed forward through the mess but far from the fighting ladies. Looking up he gasped out, "Oh shit...Samara help me! I see a mattress over here, okay one minute, we are trying! Hang on!"

Samara glanced  nervously about. Raff had told them to barricade the kitchen from both ends, not do rescue missions. Still, Brat was the nicest person here she has met that wasn't a slave. She recalled that Brat has tried to help her and so Samara ran forward to drag a dirty mattress across the rubble underneath the dangling girls.

 

Sansa and Brat were locked together in the closest bond they have ever had.

They stared deep into each others eyes rather than the dangerous rubble below. One of Sansa's hands was clenched around Brat's. When the supports gave the room started to slide downwards in a sicking way with terrible cracking sounds. Qyburn fell through screaming and was impaled on a sharp piece of banister.

Sansa had leaped and grabbed her sister's hand as they started to slide down. At the last moment, Brat lunged forward and swung her sister towards a small alcove that was still balanced upon a shaky wooden support. Sansa scrabbled and wrapped one hand around the hand of a shadowy weasel huddling in the alcove. 

Petyr kept trying to pull Sansa up but even with both hands upon her hand and arm, he couldn't lift her. Not while she held onto her sister  dangling over shattered wood and marble tile.

"I can't pull you both up. Sansa, you need to let her go. Look at her, be realistic. She is too weak, too wounded to survive this battle anyway. Let her go and I can get you out of here. We can find our way to the tunnels. I can find a way for us to get around this rubble and get out. The back upstairs stairway still is intact. Give yourself a chance, girl. And remember, if Gregor wanted the girl to kill you...she would. You said so yourself, sweetheart. Tyrion and Podrick fled already, I saw them go. The crash took out Joss and Gregor, I think. We need to go. Let go of the past and move  forward, Sansa. We don't have time for sentiment of the past." 

Arya looked into her older sister's eyes, she remembered small things. Sansa helping her make a lemonade stand, consoling her when she fell off her bike and hurt herself in front of laughing judgemental kids. "Please...don't let go. Sansa?"

Sansa let one tear fall and then she gave a sad smile to Arya and whispered, "I'm sorry. Goodbye." She let go of her past then let her future swing her into the alcove.

 

Piggy and Samara got the mattress below or as close as they could to Brat dangling in the air along with her sister. "Okay, it's only a seven foot fall from there. Not that bad if they hit the mattress, right?"

Piggy worried then he saw Sansa deliberately let go of her begging sister. He and Samara both winced and shut their eyes as the girl came hurtling down.  They heard the crash but had no time to look to see if Brat was broken or not. They heard Raff scream from a distance, "GET IN THAT KITCHEN AND BARRICADE IT!"

 

They ran into the kitchen just as the barricade they made on the other side started to gain large holes and clowns started to come through. Just as Piggy ran for his first attack, the phone rang. He answered his cell and didn't even think of the fact that he yelled at his Master then hung up.

Grabbing his oven gloves, Piggy donned them. Grabbing the first largest pot full of boiling water, Piggy gave the first few missing Kiss members a scalding bath.

They screamed and cringed momentarily, long enough for Samara to shoot them down with her gun. As a rodeo clown, two circus clowns and a clown suit with a gorilla head began to squeeze through, Piggy swung with his next pot of boiling water. Samara mowed them down.

They continued the process while the Freys and Northerners were dumb enough to keep up their bad approach.

 

 


	104. Everybody Was Kung Fu Fighting

Piggy was by no means a brave young man.

Samara was by no means a sane girl with filters or limits except those set by Raff.

However, years of bullying gave Hotpie a tiny piece of burning hatred in his heart. It was grown and tended without the boy ever acknowledging it was there.

Since Polliver, since Tickler, Piggy has seen and accepted this murderous anger that Hotpie just couldn't.

Unlike Samara, Piggy had perfect recall of his past and knew he was still himself, just under a new name. But being Piggy allowed for this violent savage side to come forth.

Killing Tickler was empowering, attacking and hacking up Dustin was a sickening high, serving him to the others was brutal, evil fun. And eating, consuming Dusten himself, knowing he decapitated the man, knowing he has done such things right under their strong, bullying noses was pure ambrosia. 

Samara had a filter over who she used to be. Jeyne was gone, Master didn't want her, he wanted Samara, so be it. She liked her new name because Master did. He was her world, this was her world, Piggy and Brat were her only friends and that was fine.

Violence has always been a part of her but now it has honed to a fine killing point. It was fun to hurt and kill others, it was good to know Master approves of her protecting him and Piggy. 

There was no fear of these weak, painted enemies, she could smell most of them were drunk. It was easy and fun to pick them off as Piggy wounded them.

But in spite of Samara's rabid fun and Piggy's adrenaline fueled fury, they weren't stupid or full of courage.

 

As the clowns came, Piggy ran out of boiling water, then out of china and heavy glass to throw.

He ran out of pots and pans to hurl, a rolling pin, knives, forks.

Samara ran out of guns and bullets.

She was down to a cleaver and Piggy was down to the bat. A bat and a cleaver are no good against clowns with guns.

Abandoning the kitchen, they ran back into the ruin of the living room to scrabble over to the doorway leading into another side of the house. Towards Raff, Shitmouth and more weaponry.

They were almost at the hallway entrance, ignoring the fighting girls nearby, when they finally had a reason to be happy that they are truly just submissive slaves.

 

Drogo and his boys came into the room from the hallway.

The large man, almost the size of Gregor pinned them with fierce eyes full of deadly intent. This was a pure predator coming through and Piggy yanked Samara so they hit their backs against the wall.

"Lift your head up and keep your eyes down. Move your hair, let them see the damned collar and stay still." Piggy hissed and Samara obeyed. Piggy dropped his bat and Samara's cleaver between them.

"Please, we are slaves! Look, just slaves trying to defend ourselves. We wouldn't try and attack you, uh, Sir." Piggy spoke submissively, letting the man see the proverbial tail between his legs.

Drogo stared down at the two, looking at the collars. He sneered and spoke to his men in another language, but the laughter and derision was in a easily understood language. Drogo's eyes were caught by the two girls trying to kill each other nearby and he jerked his head towards his men.

Ignoring the pitiful creatures, Drogo and his boys moved forward towards Waif and Lollys.

 

Piggy and Samara breathed a quick sigh of relief as they grabbed their weapons.

Drogo and his buddies were enough to make the clowns go down another path at least for the moment. The pets took advantage of the way too brief lull to fly into the dining room that led towards the gaming room.

Raff and Shitmouth had been finally clear of any more fucking clowns at the windows. They swore as Piggy and Samara came flying in, armed with only a bat and cleaver.

"Dothraki in living room, clowns are coming after us, what's left of them." Piggy gasped as he heaved for air against the wall.

With a moment of hope, Shit mouth asked, "What's left of them? How many are left, boy? We might have just enough bullets left between us for ten or so kills." Piggy shook his head and replied, "Oh no, more left than that and half are injured from us so they are kind of extra angry."

"Well, that's just fucking wonderful, thanks for the update! Where the fuck are the others?" Snarled Raff as Shitmouth looked like someone just ate his new puppy.

Piggy flinched.

"Uh..Joss and Gregor went down with the second floor when some crazy bitch dressed like Harley Quinn drove a meat truck into the living room. Sansa and Brat were hanging over the edge of the wreckage. Sansa let Brat fall so she could get pulled up by Petyr. I didn't see if Brat landed on the mattress we dragged over for her because that is when the kitchen barricade started to give way. Waif and Harley Quinn are fighting. I think the Dothraki are going after them. They had no interest in us once they saw our collars."

Raff understood the panicked babble, used to slaves and torture victims speaking this way.

Shitmouth doesn't do torture and doesn't ever scare a slave he plays with into such things. So he stared at the fountain of sound coming from the boy and then he caught the glimmer in Samara's eye. It was amusement directed at him and his reaction.

Shitmouth winked at her and the girl's eye disappeared fast.

Poor thing was truly fucked up by Raff.

Shitmouth didn't fear her or get creepy feelings about her. He just felt bad for the little thing and knew the rabid yet timid girl needed to know he was no challenge or danger to her. Letting Samara know that he wasn't upset over her amusement was a start.

He turned back to Raff and demanded, "Did you understand anything the boy just said?"

Raff nodded grimly. "Yup. We are on our own and fucked is what I got out of it." Raff swore bitterly as he and Shitmouth grabbed the slaves, loading them with the last of the guns, heading for the back rooms as they heard the clowns coming.

They needed a better place for a last stand.

 

The Dothraki on the right of Drogo grinned and drawled out in heavily accented common, "Now this is a show worth watching. Nothing sexier than two women in hand to hand combat to the death." The man on Drogo's left leered at the sight of Waif and Lollys trying to kill each other. "Instead of jerking off to those Kill Bill movies and that Sucker Punch one, you can think of this for now on."

Drogo shook his head and moved to watch from a much closer space. "This is truly a treat, ladies. Don't worry, I don't plan on interfering, take your sweet time. It is a nice distraction before I search for Gregor. Whichever one of you survives, I'll get to kill. How wonderful to know that both of my exes will be gone in one swoop. What man gets to be so lucky?" 

Not much could have distracted the two women from their punching and kicking. Only two things could do that. One was Gregor and the other was now leering at them while his idiot twins made stupid jokes. With a shared glance of a momentary truce, they backed up from each other slightly, circling each other so they could briefly converse with asshole ex boyfriend of the year.

"You know that is a terrible way to get closure on a failed relationship, right? I didn't try to kill you when we broke up." Lollys quipped.

"Gregor is mine. Mine to protect and I'll kill you slow if you find him alive and try to kill him." Waif warned.

Drogo and his boys laughed at both girls and then gestured for them to continue their battle.

Shrugging, Waif hit Lolly's jaw so hard that the girl flew into the rubble, spitting out a tooth. She advanced and landed on Lollys's stomach as the girl struggled for air, Waif wrapped her hands around the slender throat. Pulling her head back, Waif tried to ignore the sharp nails trying to find her eyes and gouge them out. If there was a chance Gregor survived, Drogo would indeed kill him. Waif needed this bullshit with Lollys over so she can kill Drogo.

Eyes closed tightly, Waif used all her strength to choke the grieving, crazed widow. She felt Lollys's hands fall away from her face and thought it was almost over. Then a brick hit her head and Waif fell heavily to her side, dizzy and half blinded by blood in her face. Well, fuck. To die at the hands of a low rate, insane killer like Lollys really sucked. Her only consolation was that it was a woman rather than Drogo or Gregor. That was even more intolerable.

Waif flopped over and dazed, watched as the coughing woman dragged herself closer and raised the brick high. Then Waif watched as a huge, way too fucking huge boot kicked the brick out of Lollys's hands. The woman screamed as she clutched her broken fingers and severely bruised and scraped hands. Gregor glared at her and Waif giggled.

He raised an eyebrow at her and Waif slurred out, "It's funny. We match, blood on our faces, huge wounds on our heads. You look like shit and got pounded like me. Funny, see? I DO have a fucking sense of humor no matter what they all say. I think I have a concussion. Fuck me."

"Already did that!" Gregor and Drogo both grunted out at the same time.

Lollys groaned out, "Oh fucking spare me." Waif agreed with the sentiment and struggled to gain her feet when she saw Lollys do the same. "Don't care if you want to fight with her, but only I get to kill Waif." Gregor snarled out but his eyes were on Drogo.

Drogo lifted his chin and loudly announced, "Funny. I was about to the say the same thing about you. Though I did plan to kill Waif if she survived the other crazy ex of mine."

Gregor suddenly grew about ten times bigger and a huge shark grin spread across his face. His teeth shined brightly, a slice of cold moon of lunacy. The lunacy a man gets when meeting the ex of the girl he is having issues with.

Gregor did not know Waif before he claimed her.

He did know who Drogo was however. Gregor has despised the man as long as he can remember. He does respect him however and admire Drogo. Never has he ever thought to murder Drogo however, until now. it did not matter that this was someone from Waif's past before she knew Gregor.

His dominant ape was about to combat Drogo's dominant ape.

"You will not touch Waif, Drogo. She is not your target, I am, right?" Gregor calmly responded with a clear murderous joy.

His eyes were as large as a Trekkie's upon meeting William Shatner.

Drogo gave a snarling smile back.

His eyes were ablaze with the fanatical fury of a Star Wars fan who's friend just said, "I can't wait to see that new Star Wars movie. I wonder which Darth Vader they use in this one? Is that funny large teddy bear in it? And those robots, the Daleks?"  

Lollys glared at the men and spat blood and words at them.

"Could you take your huge swinging balls somewhere else? The ladies need some fucking privacy. We can't even kill each other properly without a fucking squealing pack of dickheads fighting over us like we are a fucking bone you want to bury so no one else touches it! Want to fucking piss on us first too?"

 

Waif's kick came out of nowhere. It knocked Waif flat on her dizzy ass but it also managed to pulverize Lollys's left knee. Screeching, Lollys's fell down and scrabbled for Waif. Eager to oblige, needing to finish this to stop Gregor and Drogo, Waif tried to set Lollys into a mistake. Already frantic with pain, desperate to destroy Waif, Lollys should only need a bit more to crack.

"They were talking about me, not you. Hard to believe, I know, right? I mean with that make up smearing everywhere with the blood and bruises, you are quite a catch. Really, just a little powder room trip to fix those fucked up Pippy Longstocking pigtail things and you are good to go for the prom, sweetness." Waif giggled and crouched, trying to circle the growling bitch whose hackles were raised.

"Did Bronn tell you that I fucked him once? He was getting ready to go on his first high risk job and was too tense, too nervous of messing up. I hated to resort to chemicals and he wasn't the type for a motherly cuddle. I am sure you know Bronn was a bit of a whore, so a good blow job and a rigorous fuck got him ready for the job. Did he tell you about-"

With a roar of anger, Lollys sprang at Waif.

Who had used her time flopping about dizzily after the brick hit to find a small weapon. Lollys came straight for Waif's throat and Waif easily pushed the sharp piece of chandelier glass into the blonde's eye, driving it hard. With a bleat of agony, Lollys flung herself backwards, her legs convulsing and her skimpy shorts grew wet as her body arched. The glass must have hit at least a small amount into the woman's brain.

Waif crawled over to slit the woman's throat.

 

Gregor and Drogo only spoke to each other, only had eyes for each other. The twins were watching the ladies trying to kill each other but also trying to watch the male chest beating ritual.

"When I kill you, Gregor, I will put your skull on a place of honor among my best kill collection." Drogo said gravely and Gregor nodded slightly.

"I am honored. When I kill you, Drogo, I will keep some of your bones for cuff links, buttons for my best attire only as well as some of your bones to create only the finest art to adorn my walls." Drogo nodded back.

"If you get to fight Gregor one on one then can we take the girl that wins? Because both used to really piss us off and raping her before killing her...I mean both are hot right now...and Waif is winning but she is tired and wounded." The man stopped talking when he noticed both Drogo and Gregor staring daggers at him. "Sorry, never mind. If Lolly's wins then?"

Both men looked so hopeful that when both alphas nodded, the twin men turned into two little boys. They looked like two boy scouts that lost their troop and found a nude beach full of Molly infused teen girls.

"Guns, knives or hand to hand?" Gregor asked and was beyond ecstatic when Drogo coolly replied, "Yes."

The cockfight began as the snarling bitch war was ending.

 

Petyr and Sansa carefully had picked their way down the fragile hall until they could navigate the backstairs to the hallway. They could see the backs Shitmouth, Raff and the slaves up the other end of the hallway, shooting into the other rooms over a barricade.

Silently, they ran to the door and headed fast for the cool stale air of the tunnels.

Running, they could feel cool air soon enough. "Feels like the door to freedom was left open by someone in a rush to leave." Petyr rasped out as they hurried.

But Sansa needed to stop and breathe a moment. They sagged against each other and after a moment, Sansa managed to speak without panting so much.

"I bet Podrick took Tyrion and left. He was so overprotective of him and I am almost positive that Podrick is working for Tyrion's Uncle Kevan. THat man is the only one who gives a shit about Tyrion. Not Podrick, he is irritated to hell with my drunken husband. But Kevan always seems to have a soft spot for Tyrion. Told me so many stories of the two of them from Tyrion's childhood."

Petyr nodded and smirked as he forced them to start quickly walking towards the freshening air.

"Very astute of you. I am positive of it myself. I also believe this all is the work of Kevan along with Walder Frey and Edmure Tully. They are using the Northerners anger to take over the territory themselves. Idiot fucking drunken Northerners don't even see they are just changing tyrants. We will go West and begin anew."

Petyr gave a reassuring smile to his beloved student that he has lusted for from afar for so long. Soon to be his and even in this extreme circumstance, he got a raging hard on. When the bullet went through Petyr's face, rearranging his bones and brain into shattered shards and a hot thick soup, his died with the erection standing proud.

Sansa was busy clawing unspeakable organic matter out of her mouth and eyes, gagging. Staggering backwards, Sansa was finally able to see through a blurred red tinge. Not that she needed to, she knew damn right well who just murdered her last dream, her chance to climb that last rung. After all, her parents and brothers were dead, who was left that would destroy Sansa's dreams? Her little bratty, petty sister of course. 

"I wasted time feeling guilt over letting you go. Clearly, you just won't fucking die and give me any fucking peace, will you?" Sansa started to cry and laugh at the same time. "All your fucking life you have tormented me. You always had to win, always. Does it feel good, do you feel fucking avenged now?"

Brat let all the air in her body go, feeling so soft, warm and empty, focused on her target. Her gun hand was steady and Brat spoke with a voice as cold as her eyes.

"Not yet. No. Gregor didn't order me to kill you. After all you are his partner even if you are running out the door on him, right? Oh wait...if you are leaving with Petyr without Gregor knowing...you are betraying him. Geez, Mrs. Lannister, I have to protect my dad from traitors, you know. After all, family is important enough to protect."

Sansa turned to run but two bullets tore through her back. One went through her lung, the other her heart which turned out not to be made of stone after all. Brat began to slowly limp her way to head upstairs and help as much as she can.


	105. Cleanse And Repeat

Raff yelled at Piggy to run to the basement and scour for anymore weapons they can use. Piggy flew into the darkened torture room and shuddered when he turned the lights on. As terrifying as the room was, Piggy couldn't see how whips, chains or skinning blades be of much use against clowns with guns.

His eyes frantically searched and lit upon a few things that held some promise. Grabbing them, he flew back upstairs and nearly collided with a half dead looking Brat.

"Oh thank gods! I was afraid you were dead after that fall! You look like shit!" Piggy yelled, hugging her fast. With a grimace of pain, Brat squirmed out of the sweaty grasp.

"Nothing a bit of soup and a nap couldn't fix. I was shot earlier and you are crushing this crossbow of mine into the wound. If you want to see me out of commission, keep it up." Piggy moved back and nodded. "Sorry. Sorry. It's ah...overwhelming today. Yeah, a tad frantic."

Brat nodded with a grin. "Just a little bit though."

 

Brat joined Shitmouth and Raff, two guns and one crossbow plus two pets with a handful of torture room devices. They were fucked and knew it.

"We are going to have to leave. We can't hold out any longer. If Gregor survives, if Joss survives, they can find us later on." Raff announced as he ran out of bullets. Shitmouth nodded his weary agreement just before he was shot down as they prepared to flee.

Brat threw the fallen man's gun to Raff then notched another arrow to fire as they tried to back away towards the hallway tunnel door.

"I have only a few arrows left." Brat muttered. "Then I'm down to a sling shot with ball bearings. After that we might as well try a variety show to entertain them as we tap dance out the door."

Raff was hit and he spun into the wall. He slid down it, leaving a long swatch of blood. Coughing up blood, Raff rasped out, "I think I've been hit." His head slumped forward.

Samara stared at him then gave a terrible scream before cutting it off into a chilling silence. All the clowns seemed to pause then as if they sensed something bad coming. "Oh fuck...now you've done it." Piggy breathed as he and Brat backed up from the girl.

Very slowly, Samara turned her head, those bulging eyes staring from the hair. She contorted, she twitched and all the clowns began to mutter uneasily. With a roar and a dreadful cacophony Samara grabbed a new weapon and leaped into the mob.

 

Kevan stared out the window of his newly purchased and furnished church which stood next to the school he will be opening as of next week. He had a clear view from this steep hill land purchase of the entire Winterfell area. With his telescope he could easily watch the Lannister Estates burning to the ground.

The Barracks had the least amount of fire, but he could see tiny littered corpses, holes in the huge home where a truck, where explosions have happened. There was no way to tell how much fighting might still be going on inside.

The last report he had from Harold and Bill was that they had the few remaining survivors pinned down. They wanted to just explode or burn them within the house but the riotous clowns were having too much fun to listen and stop shooting.

"Let them get it out of their systems then. Just make sure none make it out alive. I got confirmation from brother Podrick that Tyrion was taken out of the danger zone. They should be here any minute, I expect." Kevan hung up and turned to Walder and Edmure with a small smile.

"Even better than the sight of that sinful ground burning to ash is hearing that the last few survivors will be dead soon. My men would have been ready to give a fast and purifying end to the last ones but your clowns are having so much fun, it seems wrong to not let them finish it themselves if they so choose."

He carried on a small tray three glasses and an unopened bottle of brandy.

"I do not imbibe much. But I believe this one time victory toast would be fine. In the case of mutual wariness and respect for each other, I have clean glasses and an unopened, just purchased bottle of brandy. I will let you two do the honors of pouring your own each."

Chuckling, the two men each took a glass and then Walder broke open the seal upon the bottle. Edmure poured for all three and they raised their glasses to each other before downing the fiery drink.

Kevan coughed and his eyes watered. "Gods, not used to that anymore."

He leaned back in his chair then said affably, "The poison was coated on the bottle and the shot glasses by the way. It is a poison I have gained an immunity to years back."

Kevan watched as Walder and Edmure choked and slid to the ground, convulsing, foaming.

"Did you really think your sins were something I would allow here after going through so much trouble to eradicate the existing sins already in place? I will help this discontented flock find it's place. I will be the kindly Shepard and stern leader they need and deserve."

He left the two men to die and Kevan watched the cleansing smoke rising from the ashes of a fallen empire.

 

Waif climbed off Lollys's dead body and stood up shakily. She weaved then vomited. Slower, Waif stood straight and blinked rapidly while trying to not slide off the ground. Her vision sharpened upon seeing Gregor and Drogo circling each other with blades. Drogo with his curved ones and Gregor with his oversized blades. They wouldn't have held their own large dicks with such care or loving joy and Waif sighed at the idiots.

The world decided to leave without her again and Waif suddenly recalled something. "Gregor, look out for Drogo's weapons! He coats the edges with poison!" Without taking his eyes off Drogo, Gregor roared back, "GODS, WOMAN! DO YOU THINK I DON'T FUCKING KNOW THAT? LAY DOWN AND HAVE YOUR HEAD TRAUMA, YOU'RE GOING TO GET WORSE WHEN I GET TO YOU LATER ON!"

Waif stood back up, holding the wall and hollered back. "I hope you both kill each other, save me the fucking trouble!" Gregor snorted. "I thought you were protecting me? Now you are killing me? Or were you protecting me so you can just drive me crazy and then kill me?"

Drogo growled out, "She is a woman, you expect her to make sense? My men are going to keep her busy for us." Gregor shrugged. "She'll probably nag them to death then come for us both."

"Then we best hurry and grant one of us the mercy of an honorable death." Drogo suggested as he rushed forward. He was met with a muscle bound wall and sharp steel.

They began to dance the one male on male dance that has been acceptable since the beginning of time in any religious book. 

 

Watching the two grinning moron twins she remembered spurning so many times when she was around Drogo. Waif tried to wish them away. They turned into four, into six then back into two and Waif groaned.

"I don't suppose we could just wait until I am better? I don't feel up to a full dance off tonight, boys. How about one on one then? No? No. Both of you at once, I see. Alright, at least give a lady a head start?"

"Don't let her out of your sight, morons! She hunts better than either of you idiots!" Drogo hollered out but the twins knew they were the best trackers in the world. They were already laughing and following the girl into the rubble. 

"Your men are already dead if they just let Waif choose the game." Grunted Gregor as he spun out of reach, Drogo's deadly blade only seconds from flesh.

"If they are stupid enough to let a woman hunt them then they deserve the death from her." Grunted the Dothraki as Gregor's blade gouged through his leather jacket.

Drogo quickly spun out of his jacket, twisting it around Gregor's arm, trapping it briefly. Gregor laughed and gave what seemed like a huge somersault forward and a hideous crack caused Drogo to vomit.

Gregor was impressed as shit that Drogo not only didn't scream but the man kept trying to cut him. With a huge kick into the man's ribs, Gregor knocked himself away from the whistling blade.

In respect, Gregor stood back up and gave Drogo the chance to do the same if he chose to.

He did of course.

 

Waif slid under a huge pocket of debris and began to throw her voice.

"Oh no. Oh dear. How scared I am. A damsel in distress and what, oh what should I do?"

Her voice was as deadpan and as bored as could be.

"Uh oh...you are getting warmer, please, don't catch me. Don't rape me, I just hate getting raped. It really puts a fucking damper on my day. Nope, wrong, moron, not under the piano. Hey, fuckface, do you really think I'm on the ceiling? Think I'm a fucking demon or a spider lady? If it weren't so funny, I'd feel bad for you both. I bet your mothers felt bad for you that is why they were happy with your career choices. It was either this or broom maker. And if you were broom makers, you'd make less money and probably survive mouth breathing over your parents way too long."

The men were surrounded by an insulting woman they couldn't see or shut up. No worse torment nor pain could have been inflicted upon two Dothraki men and they went crazy.

They began to shoot into the debris, into the walls, wherever Waif threw her voice or a chunk of wood. Once they ran out of bullets, they began to ram through rubble after the ghost bitch.

Carefully, Waif managed to pull herself up the same upwards, broken path Petyr and Sansa had climbed down earlier. She crawled into the first heavy thing she found. Waif threw her voice so one of the idiots would be under her waiting hands.

She dropped the heavy vase from the alcove down upon him and the man was no longer available for games.

Panting, Waif had to wait out another bout of dizziness. The other man below snarled at the sight of his dead partner and then he began to climb up towards Waif with his knife between his teeth.

 

Piggy and Brat both skidded to a halt as Joss nearly shot at them. "Fuck! Be careful, huh?" Joss looked like hell and his left leg was clearly messed up, foot looked nearly pulverized. He had been propped against the wall next to the tunnel door about to try and get out himself.

Brat snarled at him then yanked the door open for them. "Is Gregor alive?"

Joss nodded. "He and Waif are fighting some Dothraki. I'm no use like this and I have two bullets left. What the hell is that sound? It sounds like a screaming girl scouts being mowed down by Leatherface with his mighty fucking chainsaw? Scared the hell out of me when it started!"

Piggy peered over Brat's shoulder at Joss and replied. "Those aren't screaming girl scouts, they are screaming clowns. And it's not Leatherface with a chainsaw, it's Samara. They shot Raff."

Widening his eyes, Joss shuddered. "And to think I was going to try and rape her. Holy shit." Brat narrowed her eyes in disgust. "Really? Lovely. Go take off and I'll go see if Waif and Gregor need help against the Dothraki." Joss shrugged and limped to a sitting position on the staircase to begin a very bumpy slide down.

"I'll stay with you and help as much as I can, Brat. I'd rather take my chances with the Dothraki. At least they won't want to rape or torture me before killing me."

Piggy slung his bat over his shoulder and kicked the tunnel door shut behind him. Grinning, Brat readied her last two blades and they went to find a fight.

 

Polliver's voice suddenly pounded through the house via a high powered bullhorn.

"I'M BACK BITCHES AND PIGGY I DON'T SEE NO COFFEE."

It echoed over everyone and brought a brief pause to all.

Raff's eyes opened slightly and he gave a slight grin. "Fucking show off."

Seconds later, men began to storm through the destroyed mansion with flamethrowers and rifles.


	106. Falling Apart To Hang On

Tyrion woke up to himself vomiting on Podrick's back once they left the tunnels and hit the night air.

Podrick cried out in disgust and dropped the dwarf to the ground. He ripped off his shirt and tossed it with a grimace then stormed towards where he left the car.

Choking on the smoke, it took Podrick a solid moment to discover that the smoke was from his car. Which was on fire. From one of the triggered fucking bombs.

In spite of all his best intentions, Podrick was still young and could only take so much. The swearing he did while kicking dirt and the tears in his eyes would have certainly gotten him censured.

Tyrion stood and swayed, "I don't understand. Where are we going? What has happened? Wait..it's all burning, oh gods! Sansa and the others are still in that fucking mess, we must find a way to help them."

Tyrion started to search himself for a cell phone.

Podrick tore Tyrion's cell away and stomped on it with pleasure.

"For a reason I cannot see, your Uncle Kevan has deemed you to survive tonight. Only you, the rest of the sinners will go out in the bomb hell fire to purify that ground. Now shut up while I find a car to get us to your Uncle." Tyrion stared up at Podrick with horror.

"My uncle ordered the death of everyone? All of them? Even the Northerners and Riverlanders all in there? Which means he probably killed Walder and Edmure by now, huh?"

Grabbing his arm, Podrick started to drag the dwarf towards the dirt road and one of the abandoned Frey trucks.

"You don't think the Freys and Tullys wouldn't do as bad or worse than the Lannisters, Boltons or Starks? At least with our leader, we can help folks be treated with fairness and be shown mercy through a sinless existence."

Tyrion looked up and finally saw the fanatical light that Podrick has been hiding all this time.

"Yeah, okay. So..they upgrade to religious tyranny instead? How is this helping the people? And really...is there even a bomb at the Barracks?" Tyrion asked fast as he dug his heels in, trying to halt Podrick with little success.

"Bob and Harold were to set bombs at each house, Lannister and Stark. They had finished planting the bombs at the Lannister homes when they texted me to get you the hell out of there. Now shut up and keep moving! And we are liberating the townsfolk, not being tyrannical!"

Podrick gave a small screech when suddenly his knee exploded and he fell to the ground.

Tyrion leaped back from him, still holding the stolen gun.

"I am short, I can reach your holster easier than you can. Please, don't make me have to kill you. I can't walk away allowing all those deaths, so I need you to toss me your phone. I need to call and warn Gregor if he is still alive in there. I need to do something, whatever I can to help them. Turns out I really did put my faith in the wrong folks. I love my uncle, I will always treasure my memories with him...but I cannot condone this. Toss me your phone."

"Fuck you!" Snarled Podrick and he started to crawl away. "Stay and blow up with them if you want to." 

 

Joss was limping out of the tunnel when Tyrion came flying by.

"You! Listen! Bombs! Planted! Bob, Harold, sunglasses! All three houses! Kevan killing everyone. No phone, can't tell anyone!" Trying to process the breathless words, Joss's eyes widened. "Fuck! Okay! I have no fucking phone! FUCK! Lost it in the house! Come on!"

Joss turned and tried to hop as fast as he could, while Tryion staggered next to him. They started to check dead and wounded for a cell phone.

Tyrion held up a phone with a crow of victory just as the furthest Lannister house blew up. Both men fell to the ground and watched the debris hit the side of the second Lannister home. "Shit, its on a timer. We don't have much time left, we gotta do something."

Joss texted each member frantically but he knew there was little chance anyone would see it. Anyone left in there would be locked in battle, dead, or isolated and wounded. They both suddenly heard a roar of engines then an obnoxious voice over a bullhorn. They stared at each other and grinned.

With renewed hope, they both charged forwards to warn Polliver to get everyone out.

 

Waif was giggling because the situation was absurd, just so fucking tragic she had to laugh.

It was time to accept it, worse than being killed by a crazy woman, more intolerable than being killed by Drogo or Gregor was about to happen. Waif was about to be murdered by a moron of all things.

It was truly pitiful but Waif had no idea how to cry so she laughed instead.

The dizziness wasn't abating, she couldn't stand, she kept watching the world pulse grey with pain. Things doubled and the one climbing moron on occasion became two.

Waif was slowly sliding along the floor that was left, trying to find an escape, think of a plan. But she was trapped and the moron was almost at the end of the treacherous climb.

 

Piggy and Brat carefully navigated the rubble and assessed the two separate situations.

"Gregor will get mad if I get in the way of his fight. But Waif looks pretty done in, guess she gets our help." Brat grabbed Piggy and started heading across the rubble to climb after the Dothraki. Piggy caught Brat as she slumped, tripping over a large chunk of staircase.

"You are shot, remember? Let me do it." Brat didn't have much of a choice, on her ass.

The repulsive idiot was leering, grinning, taking his time now.

Waif was against the crumbling wall, sitting there dully watching him approach. "Oh, knock it off and get it over with. You aren't scary at all. You have never been scary and if I were afraid of death, this wouldn't have been my career, would it? Nope, I would have been a cosmetician or spa owner, not killer. So lets just finish this up, huh?"

The leering grin became an angry smear across the man's face.

"I am going to take out your fucking tongue first!" He snarled as he prepared to leap upon her. Waif's hand was weakly clenching a brass planter and she was hoping to swing it into his skull once he was close enough.

She had extreme doubts this would save her, but at least it would prolong things for another second. That was what this life was anyway, all about taking another moment of life, regardless of who's.

The gray stone slammed into the ape's neck before Waif could use her own pitiful weapon.

"AW, FUCK YOU! THAT HURT, YOU BITCH! WANT ME TO RAPE AND KILL YOU WHEN I FINISH WITH THIS BITCH? NO PROBLEM!" Screamed the moron as he clenched his bleeding neck as he stared down at Brat. She was already reloading her slingshot as she sat, pale and bleeding.

"Sorry! Really, I am. I meant to have the stone go through your skull. I forgot the ball bearings so we have to make do with this mess down here. I'll try harder to kill you, not wound you."

She grinned brightly which made the man nearly screech in rage.

While he cursed, Waif started to laugh her ass off.

"Oh, I love you, girl! Trust me, as far as idiot fathers can go, you could do worse than Gregor. You are a little killer through and through. Trust me, it wouldn't have gone well with your other family so well. I would have snatched you for us the first time your stern father threw you into a detention center for some tough love. You would have been one of my girls instead pne of Gregor's men. You might not believe this but his men have a much easier time of it. He is sort of seen as coddling in my circles."

Waif saw Brat giggle at that thought as she sent another stone hurtling into the moron's arm as he raged at her, waving his fists like a true ape. Continuing to enrage the man, Brat cheered and Waif started clapping.

She clapped while she watched Piggy sneaking up behind the idiot, readying his bat.

 

Harold and Bob were dusting off their jackets and hands, trotting towards the car. Bombs were set, one had already gone off and they were ready to leave. "Hey! Hey!"

They spun and saw Podrick limping, dragging a bleeding leg behind him. "Tyrion shot me. Little fucker ran to tell them about the bombs! He might get them evacuated in time! There was nothing I could do, I'm so sorry!"

With a fierce frown but a grim kindness Bob shook his head and patted the man's shoulder.

"You are young and untrained. It was your first assignment and in the worst of homes as well. Kevan hated having to give such a difficult den of sins to one so young. You did as well as you could under the circumstances. Wait in the car for us."

Harold and Bob went to the trunk and then headed towards the smoldering estates.

 

Aerys watched his men make short work of anyone left. He ignored the screams and walked with three of his best men, looking for his son.

They found a curious hallway that was straight out of a horror movie set. Blood was thickly sprayed across the walls. Bodies and some still living, screaming. Limbs were just everywhere and the men carefully picked their way through.

The sight at the end of the hall made them want to turn and just quietly leave. Or just shut their eyes, turn on the flame throwers and hope for a holy intervention.

Since the shuddering horror was standing in front of Aerys's son, the men couldn't have either of these options. Aerys found his way through the gore piles and stared at the girl with curiosity.

His men only saw a woman covered head to toe in blood and gristle.

Long stringy black hair shiny with blood covering her face, large too white eyes peeking out. She wielded a chainsaw that was spraying blood and gristle, smoking, nearing the end of its use. The growl was deep and menacing.

What Aerys saw was that the girl was protecting his injured son at all costs. This must be the one his son bragged about.

"You have done a very good job keeping your Master safe." He remarked calmly as he moved closer past his men. Samara raised the chainsaw tiredly, crouching.

"Do you know who I am? My son and I have had some falling out here and there but I can't imagine he hasn't mentioned me. Viserys has mentioned you to me. Your name was Jeyne...Samara now, right? I can see why he named you after a horror character."

Samara saw the man had the same eyes, the same voices.

Lowering the chainsaw, Samara looked nervously at the man then at Raff. Her Master needed help and if this was indeed his father he could help him. She watched carefully as Aerys came over and knelt to touch his son. Raff's eyes drifted open and he looked at his father.

"Where...is?" He saw Samara standing there clutching the chainsaw, glaring at his father's men. "Good girl, down."

Samara dropped the chainsaw and curled next to Raff, but her eyes stayed on all the men. "Just have Polliver watch her until I...."

Raff slumped again and Aerys began to give his men sharp orders.


	107. Bullies Bullying Other Bullies

Parry, thrust, whirl away from the sharp glistening blade.

For a small while Gregor let himself get lulled by the lovely hypnotic dance of a good knife fight. He deliberately began to play with his prey that same way that he always yells at his boys for. Allowing for Drogo's lack of an arm made Gregor become sporting and not fight dirty.

This enraged Drogo to recieve charity and he attacked even more frenzied. Gregor saw the cultural faux paus a bit late and decided he didn't care enough to try and explain. Instead he allowed Drogo a fair chance at him, well up to an extent.

Eventually he managed to relieve Drogo of his last blade and prepared for the kill.

Drogo stopped fighting then and did the most unexpected thing.

He dropped to his knees and started to laugh with genuine mirth, not any form of fear or madness.

Gregor tilted his head and stared. "You wanted an honorable death, stop cackling like a crazy man. Act like the fucking Dothraki warrior you are, man!"

For some reason Gregor felt terribly insulted by this laughter, there was derision in the man's eyes. A delighted amusement at Gregor's expense.

"What is it? Come on...fucking tell me!"

Gregor knew better to let his temper go now but this fucking man is LAUGHING at him. There is NO WAY this man will die until Gregor knows the REASON for this laughter!

Growling, Gregor kicked hard into the man's shattered arm then his ribs.

Drogo grunted and paled, bent and vomited. It was only moments later that he began to laugh again, spraying vomit onto Gregor.

"Ugh, fucking..TELL ME YOU FUCKING COCKSUCKING JUGGLECUNT OF ROTTED SYPHILITIC PUPPET MEAT!"

The explosion, the first one didn't even register in Gregor's hearing over the rushing of his blood and the laughter of Drogo.

Gregor sliced into Drogo's left arm, cutting through tendons. "Listen very carefully, you dirty, filthy fucking sandmuncher. If you don't start talking I'm going to rip out your eye and fuck the socket!" 

"Okay...I'll tell you...I want to even. It's just...so fucking funny to me..." Drogo laughed even as he winced while Gregor twisted the blade one last time in Drogo's ruined arm before removing it.

"You see...I might die and you'll live but....I still get the win. I get the last fucking laugh. I get to die knowing the great Gregor Clegane was utterly fooled by a girl. That you were used like a fantasy by a lonely, horny assassin. Her mission was over, she stayed to play your slave and protect you. Do you think when she was bored with you, do you think she was going to leave a little money on your dresser?"

A gale of laughter poured out of Drogo.

Gregor was lunging forward with his blades to skin Drogo alive when the second explosion hit closer to the house. He couldn't ignore this one as it knocked him into the air and onto a broken piano.

The fucking cocksucker was still LAUGHING, Gregor could hear it and he struggled to get back onto his feet. He started to go after Drogo who was already on the move.

The blades were lost but Gregor didn't mind. He planned on beating Drogo to death at this point.

Mostly because even as Drogo headed for escape, he kept running his mouth.   

"You know the one thing I liked about you was you were a man of few words. Why do you have to disappoint me at a time like this? At this rate, your skull has just lost its place of honor on my best shelf." Gregor grunted as he crept closer.

"You are right, I never cared for mindless chatter. For you, for this day, this momentous last few moments I live...I will do it. I will finally unleash my torrent of words. Only because this is so special...truly, will you deny a warrior such as me my due? I would have allowed you your last words and would have honored your skull. You know this, it is known."

Drogo had stopped laughing and his voice was serious.

That thing that made them all killers, what they are..it had it's own unspoken code like any other profession.

Gregor sneered then hollered, "You have all your last words you want as of this moment! When I reach you they end!"

He began to move as fast as he could, as did Drogo, who suddenly gained a whole new talent. He became suddenly very enunciated auctioneer chipmunk on speed as he spoke.

This actually paused Gregor into not just slowing but listening.

"She wasn't my slave, she was my girlfriend. When it suited her to be, of course. I was an abusive prick and she let me be. When it suited her. Waif loved the whole dominance thing. She was bdsm without a safe word but things went sour real fucking fast. Because she plays at being submissive, she is really a dominant like us. It is fucking intolerable and you are about to learn all about it. She changes in a heartbeat and you'll never know what is the real person. She leaves without word, comes back when she wants to as if that is fine. Killers don't have domestic disputes, they have battle, Gregor."

Drogo laughed again then continued as he kept only a few feet ahead of Gregor.

"She shot me in the leg, I broke her clavicle. She threw my prized bike over a cliff. I kidnapped her favorite hairdresser and boiled her alive. Those were the smaller spats we had. I can't even imagine the ones you'll be having."

Gregor moved faster but Drogo was relentless in his words and in staying just out of reach.

"It's over for you if she lives, you know that right? If she CHOSE to stay...even after we all attacked, risked her life for you? It goes beyond just the regular kink, buddy. That girl has decided you are her new love interest. And I know that glint in your eyes, that look on your face when you heard her voice. That mix of wanting to kill her but only after you've made sure she was safe and that you got the last word. That is love, and you are fucking doomed. We loved each other too. But we had to break up or we were going to kill each other. So, do you think you'll be holding her dead body or will she be standing over yours? And..too bad your betting man isn't here, oh wait, there he is! Polliver, you should be putting odds on this! How long until they kill each other and which one do you think will win, boy?"

Polliver wasn't laughing at all. He stared deadpan at Drogo then shot directly in front of him.

Then he cracked a grin.

Every time Drogo moved in any direction, Polliver sent another bullet to keep him there.

The bully gave a sharp laugh and drawled, "Now see, that is funny. You aren't funny but watching my leader rip you apart with his bare hands, that will be fucking hysterical."

Gregor reached Drogo and in moments there was no laughter at all.

Huge fists smashed like the Incredible Hulk then Gregor proceeded to smash Drogo's head into jelly among the rubble.

Polliver wasn't laughing not because he was shocked by Gregor's actions. He had looked up at a glimpse of others moving above and behind him from a long upstairs hall that was now half on the lobby floor.

 

Brat sent another rock careening towards the moron then dropped her arms. She was too tired, felt very weak and just not well. Maybe a nap would help and she set her head down on her arms, shutting her eyes.

Just a minute, wouldn't do to let Gregor see her like this, he'd never forgive such a foolish slip up as napping during a battle.

Just for a second and then Brat was gone, spittle and blood starting to build in her mouth then slip down her chin onto the rubble.

 

Joss and Tyrion found the empty truck with the wired up bullhorn but no men. Polliver and whomever he was here with were inside now. Fuck. Hoisting the dwarf into the truck seat to turn on the bullhorn, Joss grabbed it and yelled into it.

"BOMBS UNDER ALL HOUSES! GET OUT NOW! BOMB! GET OUT! WHEN THE SECOND EXPLOSION ENDS, OUR WILL GO IN FIVE MINUTES! GET OUT EVERYONE!"

To their great relief, men started to come out, but they weren't Gregor or the others. After a moment they saw the men were carrying Raff on a stretcher, next to a tall man that Joss recognized.

"Oh, it's Aerys, Raff's father. A tyrant, the best slave trader and trainer anywhere West. Never mind his political, business and social reach. Where he lives..he is pretty much a damned king." Joss ran over to speak with him but Aerys seemed much more concerned about his son.

"Polliver is in there gathering your group. My son needs a hospital right now, we cannot wait. I will leave a few of my men to drive them out faster. Take that dwarf and get yourselves to safer ground."

Tyrion watched them all leave but a few men that went back inside.

"They could have at least offered us a ride to safety. Not just the useless advice to find safety." Grumbled Tyrion as he tried to help the very tall Joss make it across the Stark estates to the street.

The cars careened away with Raff and the two limped onto the street. 

"How disappointed your uncle is going to be in you, Tyrion. He really thought that you were innocent, just manipulated and beaten down by your sinful family. It would tear his heart up to know that you betrayed him in his most trusting vulnerable moment. Instead of being grateful for his gift, you sneer and spit upon it. I cannot bear to see your uncle take anymore pain, Tyrion. So I'm doing him a kindness."

Harold grinned as he and Bob stood in the center of the road, guns ready.

 

Piggy's first swing hit hard upon the curly haired man and he went down on top of Waif.

"Ugh, he stinks! Get him off me!" She muttered, shoving at the dead weight that then shifted just slightly.

Fuck, a trap! Waif tried to yell it but the repulsive asshole stuck his hand in her mouth to shut her up. The taste of his fingers let her knew he didn't wipe when he used the bathroom either.

Gagging, Waif bit hard in a desperate attempt to bite off his fingers. 

Afraid of hitting Waif or knocking his head into hers, Piggy started to swing at the man's neck and back instead.

Screaming at the pain from the bat but even more from the intolerable of being eaten alive, the Dothraki went berserk. His other hand had lost the blade in the whacks from the bat, but it had one hell of a fist. It crashed into Waif's face twice then into her throat.

Cawing, foaming, Waif contorted in agony, trying to find any air.

With her subdued, the Dothraki turned to go after the boy.

"I'M GONNA SHOVE THAT BAT UP YOUR ASS AND SPIT ROAST YOU FOR MY DINNER, YOU LITTLE FUCKING HOG!" The boy swallowed hard and swung again. The man dodged the bat and slammed Piggy into a wall, tearing the bat from him.

"MY TURN! RUN YOU FUCKING SQUEALING HOG, I AM GONNA SMASH YOU TO FUCKING BITS!"

Squealing exactly like a hog for slaughter, Piggy ran as the man swung the bat, nearly hitting him.

Problem was, there was nowhere to run to really. The wood won't last much longer as it was, the running was making it worse. Soon the end of walking and the beginning of gingerly picking steps with careful movements starts.

He won't survive the Dothraki if he slows down and he won't survive the plunge if he runs.

Then Piggy had a rough sudden stop as he slammed into Polliver's chest. Before he could say a word, Polliver swung him around to press his back against the alcove area.

"GIVE ME THAT HOG, I WILL FIGHT YOU AFTERWARDS!"

Standing in front of his pet, Polliver looked calmly at the pure fury of the bat wielding Dothraki. "Boy, I can sympathize. My boy can drive me apeshit.  His mouth just runs, ya know, like there are no filters. Even so...he is mine and I like him better alive. And his name is not Hog, it's Piggy."

With a roar, the man rushed forwards swinging the bat with lethal force at Polliver's head.

Without any expression, Polliver shot the man three times in the chest. After the man fell, Polliver turned to grin at his slave.

"Hey, you did a pretty good job holding your own while I was gone, boy. Though...I don't see my coffee anywhere."

Piggy wanted to keep his chin up and say with a strong tone, that he did just fine. That he managed to keep a barricade going, save Brat's life with a mattress, fight off deadly clowns and try to save an assassin.

Instead Piggy fell to his knees, clutched Polliver's legs and burst into tears.

Polliver snorted and shook his head but he tousled the boy's sweaty hair.  A voice boomed throughout the house warning of bombs. Recognizing Joss's strained voice, Polliver felt a chill.

"Fuck, gotta go now, Piggy. You head out that window right there, while I grab Waif."

Piggy gasped out, "What?"

Impatiently his Master jabbed a finger at the window in the alcove.

"Break that window and climb out of it. It has a slanted roof, you won't fall. Wait out the window for me and I'll lead you down. It's not a fucking request, Piggy. It's an order." With a moan of one who is reaching his limits, Piggy nodded.

He took of his shirt and wrapped it around his fist before breaking the lovely colored glass.

Polliver grabbed the nearly unconscious Waif and followed his boy out the window.

He carefully set the girl down near the edge and told Piggy to keep her from rolling off the roof. Then Polliver leaned back in the window and bellowed, "GREGOR! HOUSE IS GONNA BLOW AND BRAT IS THERE! SHE IS RIGHT NEAR YOU AND ALIVE BUT TOO WOUNDED TO LEAVE! I HAVE WAIF AND PIGGY, OUT OF HANDS!"

Gregor stopped killing the dead man and heaved over him, shuddering.

Coming back to reality was painful, the colors that were not soothing red or black were too much. Too jarring and abrupt, other colors...other sounds. He heard the words and then they registered.

Gregor forced himself up and staggered about looking for Brat. He found her laying nearby as if she were a little girl that got tired after too much jump rope or hopscotch or some shit little kids do.

He grinned and lifted her up then headed fast for the new exit created by Harley Quinn's meat truck. Gregor ran and Brat simply curled into his arms like a contented kitten.

"Stupid idiot." He grunted but he was glad Brat was out cold because the words were said with gruff affection and pride.

He dropped Piggy over the end of the dangling roof into an open garbage truck that had been driven in to smash through their gates. It had landed in the side garden right under where they were now.

Then Polliver threw Waif in after Piggy.

"There, you'll both stink but you'll live. A few of Aerys men just texted me. They took Raff away for the hospital but they can't get Samara to leave with them. I have to go get the other moron, so you two morons have to fend for yourselves. Piggy, carry her if you have to or smack her awake. I want your ass off this property and on the road right now. Past the Bolton house, near the woods, you can stop there and wait for me to come get you. Now go."


	108. Scorch And Salt The Rotted Ground

Polliver damn near killed himself trying to run to get that fucking ghost pet out of the house before it blew up.

He skidded into the last hallway and grimaced at the stink and sight of all the gore.

Looking up at Samara, Polliver grinned.

"Hell, look at you! You look like that chick Carrie from the horror movie...you know all covered in the pig's blood? Never mind we need to leave the house now. Let's go, girl, run!"

Grabbing a hold of Samara's thin slippery arm, Polliver pulled and ran. Samara had been standing blank since Raff had left, silently panicking.  Her Master was gone, that man, that father has taken her Master away and she must find him.

Samara couldn't tell any of this to Polliver of course. She can tell Piggy though who can relay her messages so she ran with Polliver hoping to be led to Piggy. Someone has to understand that Samara needed to stay with her Master.

They flew out the front door and started to fly across the lawn.

Piggy and Waif had been joined by Gregor and Brat, then Polliver with Samara.

"Hey, head to the woods is where I said to go!" Growled Polliver at Piggy as they caught up. He smacked Piggy's head as they all ran.

"Sorry Master! Gregor said to follow him instead..I..I didn't know what else to do! He is your boss, Master! And he is strong enough and big enough to just rip me in half and eat me! I had to obey his order, Master!"

Gregor stopped the babble of the boy by roaring.

"Damned right I am the boss and I can override anyone at any fucking time. Your pet was smart enough to obey me, Polliver. So shut up. We are heading to the Boltons estate. I have three cars hidden in their garage. That is where we need to go."

"Yes, Sir!"

They ran.    

 

"Well, I suppose this is better than deciding to reform me or whatever the hell it is you do to those poor souls in those schools and churches my uncle has. All these years I have heard rumors and ignored them, cherishing the memory of a kindly uncle that helped a sad boy but I knew deep down they were true stories. Go on then, please make it fast and let's face it, I am a little person. I have a fear of others playing with or displaying my body and leaving me there for others to laugh. Please, out of respect for my uncle if nothing more, allow me death with dignity."

Tyrion sniffed then stood straight. "I'm ready, Harold, Bob."

The impassioned speech was effective and both men listened then gravely nodded. Bob clicked off his safety and then spoke quietly.

"Tyrion, I remember that boy...that poor little boy. We will give you dignity in death. Your body will not be left here with the others. We shall bring your body to Kevan to let him grieve and have a lovely ceremony for you. The sermon will bring us all to tears and we shall pray for you."

Taking a deep breath, Tyrion nodded and blinked back tears. His voice was choked slightly as if he were trying to hide his emotions.

"Pray for me? No one prays for me and no God of any sort favors me or finds me with a holy purpose. From the moment I was born, I was despised, unneeded and certainly not wanted. The only prayers were for my death. I can remember being sick as a preschooler, laying in my bed and my father came in. I burned with fever and my eyes were swollen shut. My father came and sat next to my pain wracked shuddering form. I had been alone expect for the nurses and doctors that stopped by to impersonally work upon me. My father sat there next to me and prayed so hard..he was not religious. But this one night he wept and prayed, thinking I was asleep. He prayed out loud softly but with great fervor for me to die. That is when I knew there were no gods because I lived."

Harold and Bill had tears in their eyes at the terrible, emotional story.

They wavered in their convictions, perhaps, maybe they could bring him back. If Kevan heard his testimony, understood the sins that were forced upon this boy, perhaps reformation was possible. Of course it was, this was their exalted leader, he never failed.

Clearing his throat, Harold shook his head and gave a small bitter laugh.

"You have a good speaking voice you know. We will allow you one last chance, boy. It is the very last one. Come with us now without any trouble and we shall bring you to your uncle. You can tell him this story, confess everything and Kevan will know how to help you."

Tyrion nodded humbly and wiped at his eyes.

Joss shot Harold then and Bob returned fire.

 

Tyrion stopped acting and started running.

Back towards the forest, towards the smoldering houses. He zigzagged through the trees, hearing gunfire. Flying in panic, Tyrion broke through the trees and then the world ended.

He came out onto the lawn of the Barracks, just at the edge of grass and road.

Turning to see others running towards him, Tyrion also then caught the sight of the house suddenly exploding.

Blown back by the sheer pressure, Tyrion lay half on the street and half on the ground as another explosion rocked the earth. The house just blew apart and the air was suddenly full of flying objects that needed to land. Dazed, Tyrion felt blood pouring out of the back of his head from the hit against the street.

Shit. He watched as a piano flew over him.

The last sight Tyrion saw was utterly fucking magnificent.

A final blast rocked the three houses and flew the foundations to make sure even the tunnels were gone.

Tyrion saw Gregor Clegane, Brat, Waif, Polliver, Samara and Piggy suddenly sail through the air towards him. The humongous muscled man had Brat held tight against him as he came over closer, then closer and then landed upon Tyrion.

The man's last thoughts were, _"Oh shit, I am going to die because a giant is going to squish me. Oh gods, my death will be a fucking meme for years to come. Fuck, should've taken Harold and Bob up on that quicker death. He is like a fucking flying dinosaur and this is going to-"_

 

To say Aerys hated hospitals would be an understatement.

He hated most places that common folks can just wander about spreading their disease and filth. His wife and daughter called him an elitist, his wife saying it with strained patience, his daughter with indignant fury.

To his delight and misery his sons turned out more like him.  It made him proud of his sons and it never bothered him to cover for them when it was needed for some mischief he secretly approved of.  

He spoiled his sons, it was true and he freely admitted it. Aerys made sure that he spared the rod and spoiled his sons then watched in horror as it backfired on him. Rheager, his shining star in everything broke his vows in the worst of ways. Not just a mistress or some favored slaves, no, those a wife can ignore.

But no one could blame that Martell girl for having trouble with her husband just walking out on her and her kids. Aerys became strict far too late and Rheager didn't listen to a word anyone said to him. 

Instead the Rheager took off with Ned Stark's damned sister and all sorts of hell broke lose. The damned woman was promised by Ned to the blowhard Robert Baratheon. This was just the fucking excuse, the last straw that the Lannisters needed to get Aerys fucking ousted as mayor of Kings Landing.

Already that cunt Stannis Bareatheon who was still the District Attorney back then had dug up the private human trafficking services he still kept maintained and going back at their old home. The Lannisters propelled him to a judge for that tidbit and Aeyrs was losing favor. In fact, it soon became apparent that Aerys might also lose his freedom.

Not only was there money laundering, tax evasion, prostitution and drug rings that he was running or at least was in some way dealing with, there was slavery and selling of humans of all ages, even children.

They could put him in prison for the rest of his life for that alone, never mind murder charges for a few folks that pissed him off or opposed him. Aerys had a fondness for having meeting halls set on fire or exploded while the folks are still inside.

Aerys snapped a little bit at that point, feeling defeated and trapped. Something he was very unused to and the feeling was intolerable.

He ranted and raved through the house and threw gasoline all over everything. Screaming, Aerys ordered his men to set bombs and fires throughout the areas of Kings Landing that were rioting or protesting. It took his wife, daughter and son hours to calm him and convince the men not to obey the terrible order.

The next morning Aerys was given his breakfast with sedation medication laced through it.

Aerys fell asleep eating scrambled eggs in Kings Landing. When he woke up it was in his old bed in Valyria.  At first he was enraged and sad to say, his dragon came out. His fists flew out at all of them.

The mist of fire lifted and there was his lovely Rhae, his delicate Dany, stoic Viserys all wearing the bloody marks of his rings on their faces and bodies. And yet they remained resolute.

They would not go back, they refused to allow Aerys to get himself jailed or possibly killed. Their time in Kings Landing was over and it was time to move onward.

It was hard for him to give in but he had to admit, he was feeling a little too stressed for the thankless job anyway. The Lannisters had taken the South easily and never bothered them again. However, it was quite a long time before they were able to do any sort of trade back and forth.

Aerys watched his poor Rheager lose everything as well for his folly, including his life . Unlike his son, Aerys lived to see it all go down tragically. The Stark girl got pregnant miscarried, hemorrhaged and died.That was only the beginning of the tragedies to come.

 Rheager had gone back to his wife and children. Locked them all in their home and rarely came out. Until one day someone noticed a strange odor coming from their home. The police went to do a well visit and found a massacre of epic proportions.

The poor little babes, Aerys's grandchildren had their heads bashed in, laying in a clumsy pile of blood soaked fleece pajamas. Elia had been sexually assaulted, more like sexually tortured then her head was also bashed in. Her body was only a foot from her youngest child's pale tiny curled hand still clutching a pacifier.   

Rheagar was missing or at least his head and some of his bones were. They only found a few scattered limbs and had to use tattoos, freckles and other markings to identify the parts as Rheagar. The doctors explained that there is no way the boy was still alive. 

They never found a killer and Aeyrs was quite sure the South never actually tried to look.

This affected Rhae terribly and Aeyrs was too insane with rage and grief to offer much support to his wife or children.

Rhae committed suicide only days after the discovery of the family slaughter. She jumped off the highest peak of their ancient family home, a castle really. Rhae died upon impact on the decorative but also real spikes of a fence in their garden.

The next thing Aerys did in reaction was to begin to put his two living children in a virtual lock down.

Two young teens that had the world at their feet now found bars on their windows and locks on the doors. When they rebelled, Aerys tried to discipline them and that went quite poorly.

Viserys caused terrible troubles then ran away and joined Gregor Clegane's crew. The crew of the enemy just to spite his father.

Dany was always at odds with her father about their long standing family owned business of slavery. It bothered her beyond a normal level. Most recently, Dany ran off with a former slaver to start a group to end slavery. 

Now here was Aerys back in Westeros, in the freezing dark North with these thickly dressed, rough speaking cavemen. He never liked the North, though he would rather that than Kings Landing.

He had come to ask Viserys to take a leave of absence to help him get Dany back home before she got out of hand.

Instead he came into a battle and now here is in this uncomfortable dirty orange plastic chair watching his child suffer.

Sighing, Aerys called to have his son transferred as soon as he was stable enough. He wanted to bring his son home and if he must take his whole repulsive group of "Family" then he will. Aerys made arrangements with his private jet for the survivors that were part of Raff's group.

 

Bob jumped over to his partner and tried to help him while Joss fled. He got Joss in the arm and the man limped off into the woods.

Bob didn't care.

He cared that his friend and coworker of so many years is drowning in his own blood. Calling for emergency services was his first call, the second was to Kevan.

"I will avenge him, we will avenge him and care for his family, Bob. Pray and give what comfort you can, carry him to the first ambulance that shows up. I shall pray for him and so shall everyone here at the church. Leave him at the ambulance then take Podrick to another hospital and drop him off for treatment. Then I want you to find and bring me my nephew. This has become very personal and evil. My nephew has become the last member of my family, I cannot kill him. Even for betraying us and wounded, possibly killing one of our family. We shall reform him, teach him the errors...he shall be my finest accomplishment." 

Bob hung up with Kevan and felt better, ready for doing his Leader's work. He carried Harold's suffering buddy to an ambulance as soon as emergency workers showed. Then he fled, drove Podrick to the old poor, city hospital just past the quarry.

Bob changed his clothing then in the small apartment he shared with Harold while they were in the North. He took a deep breath to center himself and then went out to keep his end of the bargain.


	109. Worst. Vacation. Ever.

Gregor has taken bad vacations before.

Everyone has. This had to be the worst one ever that Gregor has ever taken.

He was injured as was everyone who survived. Add on he is holding in his arms an injured girl that he had thought was a slave that was actually a lying cold hearted dominating, sneaking killing machine that crushed on him because he was bigger than fucking Drogo. That he actually might care for.

Add onto that fucking Kevan Lannister just beat him. Oh, then Aerys was nice enough to inform him that on Kevan's orders Gregor's entire Southern base has been blown to hell. The only joy in the news was also hearing that Jaime Lannister was thrown screaming and fighting into Kevan's first adult reformatory school in the South.

Plenty of them will be popping up in the North soon enough, Gregor bets as he sipped another whiskey. At least using a Targaryen private jet was soothing if nothing else was. By the time Kevan finishes taking a good look at what he has taken, almost everyone in the fucking North over the age of five will be in a Lannister school, job or reformatory.

He truly felt bad for the North.

Hell, they had it better under any of the previous rulers.

A very polite text came from Kevan with a generous offer. If Gregor and those who survived with him never came back to Westeros there would be no further trouble. With a grunt of true pain for it, Gregor took the offer.

He needed a fucking break, to think, to regroup and build up. His ego has deflated, he is smart enough to know when he is wounded. If he didn't stop and get himself under fucking control there won't be anything at all to rebuild.

Gregor looked around the plane at what remains of his family. Brat was on one of two cots. She was pale and sweating in her sleep but was on sedation and a stewardess tenderly tending to her.

Joss lay snoring, his leg was in a makeshift cast and he was drooling on morphine.

Polliver sat near the back of the plane, he was flirting with the other stewardess. Raff was transferred to another hospital and was in surgery.

The slaves were in the alcove where the restroom was. Piggy was desperately trying to use washcloths to get the dried gore off of the nearly catatonic girl.

Gregor sighed then looked back over at Aerys.

"Yeah, I appreciate the offer. Your guest house will be perfect for us while we wait for Raff to heal. I can't leave a team member behind and I'm sure it noticeable, we need to take a break. I need to get a lawyer to undo all the red tape to get any funds out of the South or North now that Kevan's tentacles of Holy Fuckery are everywhere." Gregor kept his voice to a quiet grumble. He hoped that Waif stayed asleep the whole trip.

Aerys smirked.

"I have some lawyers that would take great joy in taking those cases for you. If you need a refuge where no one is untouched by some Westeros asshole, you are coming to the right place. In my area it's the Lannisters of course, as it is with the Martells. But everywhere you'll go....you will hear of a hatred for a Southern or Northern enemy. I am aware that we have a unspoken thing between us. You worked for my enemy. Hell, you helped with the destruction of my home, my family. However, my son has chosen you and this..group as his own. I will assist you for his sake alone. If he dies, my generosity ends. You understand that."

Gregor understood that and nodded. "Of course. Will you have us killed or do we get to leave in a hurry?"

Aerys gave that a moment of consideration. "My son would wish me to be fair and sporting. Fine. If Raff dies you will be informed of it immediately. You will have until the end of his services to leave."

"Reasonable enough." Gregor agreed.

 

Aerys had a stewardess give some street clothing to Samara.

"She simply cannot walk in public or even on my private estate like that. Blood stained rags give a terrible impression. New outfits will be ready for everyone when we arrive, I have already called ahead. But that has got to be fixed...is she fading away without Raff? Poor thing...some slaves do that. Pity. Maybe Raff will be well enough to recuperate at home soon and that will help her."

Gregor snorted. He waited until the girl stumbled out of the alcove.

Cleaned of the worst of blood, hair brushed out to remove the worst of the mess. Frizzy in some areas and stiff with blood in others, the hair hung in front of her face. At least the t shirt and jeans looked fine and she was in sneakers. Samara was moving her feet as if not used to wearing the shoes.

Gently, Gregor lay Waif to curl in his seat and he walked over to the pets. Piggy had been pulling Samara's hand heading towards Polliver. He paled and jumped out of Gregor's way just in time. A large hand grabbed Samara's entire head and yanked. "We need to have a little chat, dear." 

He pulled so the girl was nose to nose with him.

"Look at me. In my eyes so I know you are paying attention to me."

Samara flinched at the menacing growl and slowly raised her eyes to look into his.

"Better. Now, you are going to use your voice to respond to me so I know you are understanding me."

She gave a small whining sound and Gregor shook her head with his fist, ripping roots.

"You don't get to say no. Now, tell me who do you belong to?"

"T..to Raff."

"That's right. And Raff belongs to me. His loyalty is to me and he follows my orders. If you are his, then you are mine. Your loyalty and obedience is also mine. You will obey me and my family until Raff is able to care for you again. I have no need for a damned robot or doll. The coma shit ends now, hear me? You will serve the same as you did before and if I need your voice, you give it. And you address me as Sir. Let me hear that you understand this, girl."

Samara's voice stayed shaky and rough but she spoke without prompting this time. "Yes Sir. I will obey and serve just like Piggy, with Piggy until my Master comes for me. I obey and am loyal to Raff's leader and crew."

"Close enough. Now try just for a while not to scare or creep anyone out until you are needed." Gregor shoved the girl back towards Piggy and Polliver. Samara went stumbling over and Polliver grabbed her arm to swing her into a seat next to Piggy. She sat and kept her head down as Piggy whispered in her ear and patted her hand.

Gregor turned to head back to his seat and saw Waif standing in the aisle, weaving back and forth. He groaned.

"I can't decide if you are dizzy or trying to be a moving target." Gregor said, shaking his head at her pitiful display.

"You might want to wait until you are seen by a doctor. You will only embarrass yourself in front of my group and a very powerful famous dictator. We are about to visit Raff's family home, do you really want them to see you in some Hannibal Lector getup as we roll you off the plane?"

Waif frowned and announced, "I don't need you to tell me who Aerys is. I have known him longer than you have and have worked for him many times. Hell, I was responsible for half the kills upon your employer during the last huge Southern battle. Are we fighting now or later? I want to be ready, Gregor."

"Let's fight after we land and you have seen a doctor. I want you fully healed and ready for it. I don't want you having any weak excuses like your health to get in the way. Now do you have anymore fucking accolades you will like to shove into my face? No? Then sit down before you fall on your face. Why don't you go back into your slave role? Shut the fuck up and be still until needed."

Gregor shoved past her and sat down to finish his whiskey and have another. After a second, Waif nearly crawled her way to the restroom. He said nothing as she came back afterwards and sat in his lap with her head on his shoulder. "My head hurts and I feel sick."

The ape said nothing and Waif felt a certain amount of revenge when she threw up on him just before they landed.

 

The plane dropped them off at a landing pad within the impressive compound. They were then escorted to a well funded small medical clinic within the massive estate. Waif, Joss and Brat would be staying within the private hospital on the estate for a few days.

Before being shown the guesthouse where they could put themselves together, the remaining group were dragged forth. The rest were patched up and then some armed men came for them.

"Oh fuck me. It's the dick wave tour complete with teabagging hour." Polliver complained and Gregor slapped his head.

"Shut the fuck up. The pompous fucker is letting us stay here for free while we pull our heads out of our asses. I hope your bald shiny dome crowns soon." Polliver sullenly followed the frowning Gregor, who followed the scowling men and the pets warily followed Polliver.

 

Gregor suffered, they all suffered as Aerys indeed was all about the dick waving tour and the teabagging hour. It was irritating, it was boring and it must be tolerated.

Not a one of these tired, battle weary and beaten down group cared the least about how many walls, ballrooms, political connections or specialized golden gilding on archways. Their feet dragged and legs ached as they were dragged through out different parts of the estate. None of them will remember any of this nor care.

The military show of power and weaponry was interesting to Gregor and Polliver but in a jealous sick sort of way. Piggy and Samara only found interest in the other slaves they saw. Blank faces, perfect precision and it both was admiring and terrifying. Is that what they are supposed to act like? Is this what Raff wanted of Samara and what if Polliver decides this is what Piggy should be like?

By the Aerys had them in the tea room of his private garden complete with exotic birds and butterflies soaring about them, the group was past tense. The men all sat down and Piggy instantly went to Polliver's right and stood just behind his Master, ready to serve. Samara did not know where to go or what to do. Raff wasn't here and she waited to be told what to do.

Polliver snapped his fingers then gestured to Piggy then to Gregor. Oh. Samara went and stood just like Piggy did but at Gregor's right side.

Aerys grinned at it all as did his own slaves that were silently setting out the items for their tea. A slave moved carefully and with fast grace that the pets couldn't follow. Long graceful hands that brewed and created a special tea that smelled like lilacs and the ocean somehow.

She put some tea into little gold etched cups in a circle around stacked plates. Tiny plates for tiny cups that Piggy knew wouldn't like his stubby fingers.

The slave served Aerys first and even gave a silent offering of different pastries. As soon as she was done, Piggy launched. He wouldn't be outdone by this bitch. He knows how to serve his Master, dammit and is proud of his own work. Sniffing indignantly, Piggy went forward and carefully lifted a cup. His fingers snagged one of the plates and he set the cup upon it without any spilling.

With triumph, Piggy lifted the whole thing and he put it before Polliver.

"I want pastries. You forgot the pastries, Piggy."

With his head down and face burning, Piggy returned to the table and got another plate. The more exotic slave gave a friendly smile and a tiny shake of her head. She tried to gesture towards another set of plates but Piggy wasn't patient or understanding.

"Can you just talk? Please tell me all slaves aren't like Samara. I can't spend my whole life playing charades with everyone I talk to, I'll go crazy." The girl paled and gasped now shaking her head frantically at the confused boy.

Polliver was laughing and Gregor just gestured to Samara to get him the damned tea. Samara was fast and back in place in a second but not poor Piggy.

Aerys looked over the boy with an amused grimace then glanced at Polliver. He never did understand how this uncouth bully ended up his son's best friend.

"I have heard from my son that you had acquired a boy that could clean and cooked well enough to be a chef. He said he also had no idea when to shut up, was funny as hell to watch when he tried to get out of trouble or decides to sneak about. I admit he is amusing, Polliver. But to answer your question, boy, slaves here are allowed to speak. However, they know their places well and wouldn't speak without permission while serving their Masters. It isn't like from where you are from, little slave."

Gregor looked up then. "This tea is very good, thank you. Polliver isn't from here, why would he train his pet to act this way? In our lives, we train them a little differently. Our slaves are just as strong, rough, dangerous and crazy as we are, I guess. Let's discuss anything else that isn't boring enough to make me lose interest in my tea."

Aerys gave a look to the girl who fled and then he smiled at the men.

"You are right of course. Let us talk of other matters. The doctors have assured me Raff is out of surgery. If he survives the night then we have a eighty percent chance that Raff will pull through and begin healing. I have already contacted two lawyers that can meet with you tomorrow morning, Gregor. Ah, here we go!"

The girl had returned and brought two other slaves with her.

"Since I do not know how your slaves are trained, I cannot trust speaking in front of them about anything sensitive. Why don't I have my servants take the pets on a tour of the slave areas? They can also get to learn the layabout of the area, including the guest house?"

Gregor nodded and impatiently waved Samara away. "Sounds good."

It was a bad decision and Gregor wasn't going to have a good vacation, he just knew it.

 

It was fine at first. The two escorting Piggy and Samara were not touching them, just leading them. Both had dragon tattoos upon their necks, hair was swept up then piles of braids were upon their heads.

"This must be the reason for the strange hair fashion, to show who owns them. The man didn't collar his slaves, he just branded them." Piggy whispered to Samara who gave a tiny nod back.

A giggle from the two leading them and one finally spoke.

"You have a funny accent. Does it feel comfortable to wear that bulky collar all the time? How about when you have to go in public with it? You come from an area where slaves aren't a normal thing to see...was it embarrassing for you? I can be taken anywhere and simply cover my mark. And a brand would be a burning into the flesh. Some do that, yes, but our Master doesn't. We are given tattoos. Much less barbaric, don't you think?"

The lyrically voiced bitch slap made Piggy's face go red. "A collar can come off and I don't have to wear it in public. When I would leave for the market I never wore it."

Now both were walking backwards so they could speak to Piggy and keep moving.

The second one, a lovely feline looking male purred out sweetly, "Yes, a collar can come off. And how hard is it to put back on when you return? I bet the first few times your Master took the collar on and off himself. It's worse when you must do it for yourself. Even worse is the day you no longer are bothered by wrapping your Master's leather collar around your neck. Because it's not your neck anymore, it's just your Master's property. Do you remember that day?"

Piggy stared with his mouth open and the outrage, the bitch-slap stung so hard, dammit. Samara was in a full growl now and an eye came popping out. The two stared at her then collapsed laughing. Thank the gods they were in some hallway that seemed to be slaves only wandering through. "Oh gods, you look like a bad version of that stupid movie about that well ghost thing. Is that type of thing an actual scare where you come from, little girl?"

Before Piggy would have warned them, which he wouldn't have, Samara contorted and launched.

She flew at the snickering female and with a quick flurry of kicks and elegant fists, the female slave had Samara writhing on the floor.

"If you are sick of contorting like that, you should ask your Masters to let you get your dislocations fixed. Fighting is never allowed among Masters and it is quite discouraged even in the slave quarters and within all slave areas. Unless you are receiving the privilege of learning to fight. Use your words if you wish to spar with me, girl. Look at how small you are. And yet your temper is big enough for Aerys himself. You want to stay alive around here, you need to learn some control. Raff likes the idea of having a little rabid bitch but he doesn't take the time to properly teach you to only use it for him. Typical of him. I used to be his, I know how he thinks. The first time you mess up and hurt the wrong person, what do you think Raff will do to you? The day that his own leader declares you too rabid? He'll put you down like a dog."

Samara writhed in pain and rage, the truth hurts and it was agonizing, blinding her. Piggy helped her to her feet and held tightly to her arm. "Just take us to wherever the fuck we are going to be staying with our Masters, please!"

The man gave a small smile and extended his arm forward down a sunny tunnel that curved upward towards the right. "We are entering the area that Masters call "Slave City". It was truly more like a old time village. It was enchanting and lovely until Piggy and Samara recalled that it was full of slaves.

Houses with actual families living in them, cars in driveways, all owned down to the little toddler playing on a swing in the yard. The little square was full of stores of all kinds, anything your working slaves might need and it was surreal. Restaurants, churches and a library. A huge park complete with duck pond, garden, pavilions, gated dog area and playground for children.

"We also have a mini mall, an arcade, a golf course, football, soccer, baseball fields, we have them. A community swimming pool, a stable with horses for those who like to ride. We work hard for our Masters and they reward us. Not all, hell, not even most are lucky enough to live like we do. The hell we go through to recieve these few things of our own. So when we see a rude, arrogant couple of collared slaves acting like we should be the pitied ones, it upsets us. Do you understand now?"

Samara and Piggy nodded. Chastised, they followed the two to a flight of stairs that they went down and it led to a large gate that was guarded by an armed man.

"Master Aerys wishes me to show the slaves where they will be staying. The guesthouse for the Westeros giant." The guard nodded and opened the gate as he stared curiously at the new pair.

"We are leaving the slave city and heading across the regular estate now. Whenever possible you go through the slave city to get where you need to if you are not with your Masters. A slave alone not within slave areas is a target unless you are clearly marked upon your skin. And there are many that will steal a marked slave anyway, collars are easier to remove." The two moved to either side of the pets now as they walked towards a street with a lovely little house on it.   

"This is where your Masters will reside. Pretty house isn't it? You shall reside there too with a few other slaves that care for this house normally. Except we are not positive that you two are housebroken enough for it yet. My Master isn't certain of that so my apologies ahead of time for this."

Samara and Piggy fought as hard as they could but were down in a minute or less.

Still twitching from a taser current, Samara was helpless as she was muzzled and stuffed in a straitjacket. Piggy was appalled and his eyes were burning from the pepper spray as he squirmed while they hog tied him then stuck a muzzle upon him as well. They were yanked up and carried away into the slave quarters of the house.

"We will make sure you understand how a slave must act after we get you all cleaned up properly." Piggy kept hoping this wasn't really happening. He hopes Polliver finishes his fucking tea and wonders where his boy went soon.

 

"So the Lannisters have fallen except for the one who despises you. In fact, there isn't anyone in Westeros that will hire you for quite some time. Where shall you go for a strong leader to work for? I can give you work, if you wish? I have great need of someone to retrieve my daughter and harshly put down this damned resistance. If not, the Martells always have work...." Aerys took another sip of his tea and watched the angry men sipping their own tea.

Oh, how Aerys enjoyed poking others with a sharp stick. Gregor's ego has been cracked and it was so delightful to watch this man fall from grace. Of course he would shelter Raff's friends, but this was the real reward out of it.


	110. Have A Little Faith

Gregor reminded himself several times that he endured Tywin Lannister's study room antics, he can endure Aerys. At least until the man allowed him to leave the fucking tea party.

The tea tasted like a freshly used douche that was supposed to smell like the ocean and forest all at once. It made him feel gassy and sleepy at all once. Gods, if it was poison it was the worst one ever. 

"Thank you for that kind offer, Aerys. I don't think its in anyone's best interest thought. Kind of awkward for you to employ me when I employ your son. I can tell you from personal experience that working with relatives is difficult at best. As for the Martels, I am pretty darn sure that they will kill me upon sight. They hold grudges very tightly and we were highly involved in that battle. They do not have any reason to not seek revenge upon us. I think we shall wait for Raff to recuperate and then we shall strike out again. Find another path for ourselves."

Polliver grinned and relaxed.

Aerys frowned and saw that his fun for tonight was over. Oh well, there was always tomorrow.

Honestly, he was relieved they didn't wish to take the job. He wasn't sure about allowing Gregor or Polliver anywhere near his daughter. But he was damned sure that Joss was never going near Dany. Raff had told him all about Joss. On the sheer in case that Dany ever came to visit, Raff wanted them warned not to allow her near Joss. 

"Ah, you must be so tired and sore. How rude of me to keep you this long. Forgive me, Raff rarely visits me and Dany is gone...I get lonely. Well, you shall be escorted to your new home. Once your pets are done being re-educated they will be up to serve you. Until then some of the best slaves are there to serve in their place. And the few that live there permanently to care for the daily upkeep. You may use them as you wish as long as you take care not to injure them." Aerys stood and the other two nearly launched out of their own chairs.

Polliver spoke for the first time to Aerys. "Uh...what did you say about our slaves? Re-what? Where the hell is my Piggy?"

Aerys glared down his nose at Polliver then his lips pursed when Gregor didn't hit Polliver or correct him.

"Are you going to answer his question? He is asking what you did with his property. Now I am asking what you did to both Polliver's property and Raff's?" Gregor's growl was menacing and seems to grow larger.

Sniffing with indignation, Aeyrs stood taller and sneered, "No slave will act or look like those two here. They have been taken into the slave quarters of the guest house. They are being groomed, bathed and trained to act like they should. It is actually a courtesy and kindness of me but I see you are unable to comprehend that now. Different cultures, I guess."

Polliver groaned.

"Don't you know that is exactly the best way to set the girl off? To just grab her and start to tell her what to do when she doesn't fucking know any of you? Don't you know your son enough to know he would train her to only obey himself and those around him? Are you trying to break her, make her kill someone? This is the sly shit that Raff says you always pull on him. Raff wakes up and his pet is dead, which you can then blame on him because he didn't train her right. And my pet? Is that a little lesson for me too? Or was that lesson just for Piggy or was it for us all? You knew my boss wouldn't accept your offer, you knew the Martels despise us. We are very low right now but frankly I can't take anymore of your games. I don't want anyone touching what is mine. Or what is Raff's. You yourself said that Raff wanted me to care for Samara. And just to be real clear on it, Samara was a Northern girl that Gregor gave to Raff as a present. So if Raff passes away then she goes back to Gregor, not to you. And to be extra fucking clear, I stole Piggy myself. If I die anything I own goes to Raff if he lives or Gregor if he dies. Please do not touch our property."

Aerys narrowed his eyes then gritted his teeth.

"Very well. Do as you will then. I am sure that your pets are at least cleaned properly and dressed better. Please do not allow them to run about in anything else but the outfits provided. I would invite you to share supper but you seem overtired and overwrought. Perhaps your pet will cook for you if not one of my slaves from the guesthouse can cook you an excellent meal in short time. Maybe your pets could at least watch to learn something useful."

Gregor shook his head, he was done. He needed to leave before he popped Aerys's head like fucking daisy.

"Thank you for the tea, we shall see you tomorrow."

He grabbed Polliver's arm and dragged him to follow the expressionless slaves, ready to lead them to their temporary new home. 

 

Once Samara saw how trapped she was, when the hands started to grab all over her, she checked out. As Raff had allowed her to do in the past, a safety mechanism and it was triggered now. In surprise the two slaves stared at the rag doll they now carried.

Piggy moaned at the sight and then he sullenly just obeyed. He let them pull and push them about, hoping that Polliver showed soon.

They were bathed, nails clipped, hair trimmed and washed, styled as well which gave Piggy a fit of muffled giggles. The straitjacket came off Samara to bathe her. Since she only moved when someone physically moved her, they left it off.

Piggy was unshackled and told if he could behave he could stay out of them. There was no offer to remove the muzzle, sadly.

The new clothes were much lighter, better material than they normally wore. There was more of it as well.

A long sleeve kind of billowy shirt for each of them. Matching pants that looked like jogging pants made of silk and a belt to wrap around the shirt and waist of pants. The shirt and pants were ivory and the belt was crimson. A pair of tan sandals completed the outfits.

Samara's hair was braided away from her face, the tail hanging down past her left shoulder, down to swing at the end of her left buttock.

"There, you both look much better. Now for the training..." Other slaves have gathered now and stared at the odd couple.

"How can you train a girl like that? Look how broken and crazy she is? I mean...she is like a robot, not even there. Too bad, Raff always breaks his toys." Snickered a tall and too thin young woman.

A teen boy who was hugging himself as if scared of Samara came close to peer into her eyes then darted away. "Yeah, she is gone. Do you think they will put her down? Or wait to see if Raff gets better and fixes her?"  

Piggy protectively shielded Samara from them and sneered, "She doesn't like to be touched or bothered. She doesn't know any of you, leave her alone. We know how to act for our Masters. We don't need to learn your ways and we certainly don't need other slaves training us. Back off."

They were slowly pushed towards the small living room area for the house slaves. Couches and tables have been moved out of the way for this training session and the two were pushed into the carpeted space.  Side by side, Samara and Piggy watched, counting six slaves that have now followed them in.

"Two of you were the ones that brought us here. So four of you are house slaves for the guest house alone? Gods, does the man just have slaves that stand around looking pretty too? What excess, really." Piggy couldn't shut his mouth. Luckily, he had managed to finally chew a space in it enough to speak and be heard.  

One of the slaves suddenly had a very large staff that whistled through the air onto Piggy's back. He cried out and hunched over, hissing in pain.

"The point of the muzzled seems to be misunderstood. You are to stay quiet unless told to speak. We don't blurt things out, we don't give opinions, we don't make jokes unless it is acceptable at the acceptable, proper times. This is not one of them. We told you to stay silent, so do so."

Piggy stood back up and even as he blinked tears back he spoke.

"If you were someone with authority I would listen. I would cower and grovel but you are just another slave and you can go fuck yourself. You'll regret doing this when my Master finds you. He hates it when others take or use his property." Another flurry of whacks had him sobbing on the carpet, wrapped in a fetal position.

And then Samara's blank eye caught something, it saw something shiny that pulled her back.

So that Piggy's pain was no longer something distant but real and present. The shiny thing was a small ceremonial letter opener on a pretty delicate antique desk with a broken leg. Which is why it was in the slave quarters of course.

She was able to reach back and grab it without anyone noticing. 

They were all too busy beating and jeering at her poor friend.

Samara got a good grip on the blade and felt sweet life pour into her as she moved forward swift and deadly. Suddenly six slaves had ruined clothing as she sliced. She remembered not to kill nor injure badly but she wanted her point made.

It ended with her cutting the wrist on the girl holding the staff until she dropped it. 

Piggy leaped up and stood next to Samara holding the dropped staff like a bat. "We don't want your fucking lessons."

He growled and helped take Samara's muzzle off while she kept her eyes on all of them, brandishing her blade.

"You don't have to worry about her words, just her teeth ripping your throats out. You might be able to overwhelm us and at least two of you can fight better hand to hand. But we do just great with weapons. We also have our Masters' philosophy...we will fight you until we can't. So who is first?"

To Piggy's dismay one didn't come forth. All six did instead.

 

Kevan wore a saintly glow about him as he wore his white suit, white shoes and his white hair was elegantly swept about, matching his outfit. The silver cane in his hand might be called over the top by many, but not by anyone in this room, in the world that worships him.

He beamed down at his first students of the North with a loving and benevolent air. On their knees, cringing, cowering, hands hugging themselves. Two were bruised and had a bloody mark or two here and there. They hadn't bathed or eaten in a few days at least. The oldest of them looked much worse.  

"This is a momentous day for the North, for us and for you three." The cowering males didn't seem to think so at all. This was not voiced however, they wouldn't dare. Near Kevan stood Bob and Podrick, along with a few other devotees that will be their tormentor and teachers now.

"Our first school for the North's delinquent, lost or unwanted youth to recieve counseling, shelter and become reformed. A perfect place, isn't it? I'm using your exact ages as the limits for student ages that can be treated here. After all, you are the test students in a way. I can't tell you how excited I am to begin and I know that my disciples feel the same. I understand how scared you are, but I promise you that the suffering can and will end once you have atoned. Once you begin to embrace the teachings of your elders, you will begin a much better journey, I promise you."

Kevan smiled down at the two boys that seem very unimpressed with his advice nor did they seem happy to be test subjects. No matter. With a deep breath Kevan cast his gaze over the others in the room and his smile became wider and warmer.

"Let me introduce you to the staff of our new school. This is Brother Rast. Next to him is Brother Karl. Sister Breinne is also one of our latest students to graduate. Brother Thoros. They will be your main counselors and your daily instructors. I am sure you will learn to get along quite well and come to trust in their judgements on what is best for you. They are quite devoted to their new careers. As graduates of my reformatory in the South, they are eager to save others as they were saved. And this is Podrick. He was my star student and newest disciple. He will be Head Master of this school."

All of the men seemed to stare down at the sobbing boys on the floor with hungry eyes. Loras and Tommen huddled together and waited for the next beating. Jaime knelt a bit away from the cowering boys and he glared with hatred and trepidation at the madman. 

The large blonde cunt has taken away his artificial hand and he was afraid she was thinking of removing his balls next. He swore that he had heard castration mentioned by Kevan last time he came to sermonize Jaime. Not that Jaime heard much of it, fighting with that blonde wall to get at Kevan, even with broken ribs and one hand. But he might have heard castration.

Jaime was going to kill his uncle as soon as the chance presented itself but for now he was silent and hoping for no castration. 

Kevan looked out the glass ceiling of his new reformatory and smiled up at the clouds.

"It is a small start but a good one. Soon I will have more of my disciples teaching here and at the adult reformatory that is almost ready to open. Soon both will be full of repenting souls and they will all know who it was who saved them."

 

Gregor and Polliver entered the silent house and called for the pets.

Wandering around they could hear the sounds of a fight from below them. Finding the slave doors and hallways were difficult in these areas. The doors and walkways for them were meant to not have to be seen by others. Yanking on every door in the hall, Polliver finally found the right one and they ran down to see the strangest sight in a living room.

At first it looked like a silk pyramid slowly squirming to life. Limbs appeared every now and then, also blood splatters, squirts or stains blooming across silk. "Fuck, see this is exactly what I knew would happen, what I fucking said would!" Polliver hollered as he began to swarm into the fray. Sighing, Gregor leaned down over the mass and roared loud enough for the house to shake.

"ENOUGH! NO MORE FIGHTING!"

The silk pyramid dissolved into several human forms that were bleeding and groaning. Now they were all trying to stand and cringe away from the very angry giant.

Polliver managed to get a hold of Piggy and yank him out of the group. Slamming him against a wall, he quickly scanned his boy for any severe wounds. "Master, I'm sorry! They! Oh my gods, Master, they tied me up and muzzled me! They put Samara in a fucking straitjacket! They hit us, tried to train us!"

Polliver put his hand over his boy's babbling mouth. "Shut up."

The two that had escorted the pets in the first place stood before Gregor. One of them had no choice because Samara's letter opener was still just inches from her skin. Softly growling, Samara had darted at the girl as soon as the pile of squirming flesh had stopped crushing her.

Gregor growled louder and glared at Samara. "I said enough. Down. Stay."

She dropped the blade and she slowly went to her side, laying down and she stopped moving. But those eyes had no hiding place with her hair still mostly caught in a now ragged braid. So the crazed rabid bitch eyes were tracking, hunting, watching, waiting and hungry.

"Now look what you little shits have done. I have to deal with a triggered girl, thanks for the help." Gregor stepped over Samara to lean over the now trembling two. Gregor prepared to scare the living shit out of them.

But one of the others standing nearby, clutching her nearly useless arm dripping blood yelled out, "Look what they have done to us! Slaves do not touch weapons without permission! She would have killed us and that boy urged her to! He was trying to beat us to death! It is not allowed! They aren't behaved or housebroken as my Master wishes! They are a disgrace and that rabid girl must be euthanized or at least publicly whipped for what she has done to our flesh! The boy should be caned!"

Gregor turned slowly and then grinned, lifting the staff. "Let's start off my vacation in a better way. Since you are all mine for at least a little while...let's discuss what this will mean for you."


	111. Lost And Malingering

"Stop! Stop asking me for fucks sake! For five minutes and leave me be!" Piggy snapped as he swung past Samara and a bruised slave to shove a large chicken pot pie in the oven.

It was hard enough to find a plump chicken around here as it was. Plenty of strange wild pheasants, goats, sheep and exotic things like snake or camel. He hated the food, hated the sand, hated the heat and hated the folks that reside in this sandy, unfamiliar world. Piggy knew that the others hated it too and that helped to an extent.

No one was handling the defeat nor the hiding out very well.

Gregor looked glum at best, Polliver's mouth ran even longer and louder than Piggy's about his disdain of this place. The one bit he did seem to enjoy to excess was being allowed to sleep with any house slave. Also, Polliver could visit the legal brothels the scattered about the area.

Gregor did not seem to be using either of these services, not since that first day they arrived in the guest house. That day, about a week ago now, Gregor made sure each of those slaves knew never to fuck with them again. Do not fuck with the men, do not even dare fuck with their pets.

Piggy and Samara watched with vindictive glee as Gregor had set to work on the arrogant slaves.

The two that were from Aerys's house that had been commanded to snatch the pets were each given a few very hard whacks in very bad places then sent on their way.

"He was already informed we wanted and needed no interference with our own property. Now get out."

Gregor had then turned to stare at the remaining four. Half terrified and half defiant they stared back.

With a grace that seemed odd and savage somehow, Gregor gave them all a sound beating and sodomized the one that had dared to yell at him about rules and euthanizing Samara, of having Piggy caned in the streets. They all understood afterwards to do their jobs and keep their mouths shut. To not mess with the pets or the men living in the guest house.

Things were still tense and Piggy nor Samara entered the slave quarters of the guest house since then. A small linen closet next to Polliver's room was cleaned out and he slept in it. Polliver's bedroom closet was Samara's sleeping space now since Gregor and Polliver cannot trust her to be loose at night. If she ran into a house slave doing a late night chore and they fought it could be deadly.

Piggy nearly stepped on Samara as he shut the oven door.

"Damn it! Stop! Stop telling me, stop asking me! I already did! Each time you asked me to! I told you the answers I was given! Okay, what more do you want from me? If I keep asking, Polliver will get pissed at me! He already smacked my ear so hard it rung for an hour last time I asked for you! Ask him yourself! Why don't you go pester Gregor or Polliver about it? I have work to do, so do you! Now leave me alone! I love you but you are driving me fucking crazy!"

 Snickering, the bruised girl swept past them with a sneer.

"A slave doesn't get to ask or expect information. What are you that Raff would even care to see you? Just because he is your world, you aren't his, just something he keeps around in his world for his pleasures. Both of you place so much importance on yourselves." Piggy gave her the finger and Samara growled deep in her throat.

Another house slave, a teen male, the one bruised and sodomized came in.

"Zuli, don't set that wild rabid cunt off. These two aren't worth our time or energy, they aren't worth getting hurt over. Just do like I do and silently laugh and pity them." He pulled gently to steer the girl another direction. She followed him but gave a sharp grin back to Samara.

"I can't wait until Raff comes home and treats this bitch the way she deserves. You might know him a different way from before but at the Barracks? I think that was the name of his other homes, right? But..at his father's home? The first tiniest fuck up, you'll be on the public whipping post as he fucks his favorite former pet watching you squirm, scream and bleed. I can't wait to see it, there will never be such a crowd of slaves eager to see another slave being whipped. It will confuse the shit out of the Masters."

The words struck and the growl deepened as Samara grabbed a cheese grater then headed towards the two with great menace. Nervously, the boy spit out, "What are you going to do, grate us for dinner?" Samara nodded and her eyes were clearly seen, shining with her serious true intent to grate them into dinner.

"Oh gods, fucking crazy ass bitch wants to eat us. Fucking cannibals! I told you there were cannibals in the north, remember! That is it, they are Northern cannibals!" The girl shrieked as she pulled the boy back with her from Samara. "Sick fuckers, why don't you go somewhere you belong? Like a freak show or a circus or a fucking cave somewhere! Are you really cannibals?"

Piggy snorted, knowing how right that really was and he turned to face them, still holding a sharp butcher knife he used on the chicken.

"To be very honest, you are right. We are from the North, we are cannibals and would rather eat you than this fucking excuse of a chicken."

The two came forward and the house slaves ran off, crying out in fear and disgust. "We probably shouldn't keep bragging like this...we'll get in trouble for it eventually." Shrugging, Samara brushed it off then yanked hard at her hated braid.

Her hands flew across scars and Piggy threw the knife into the sink, hollering, "Stop asking me!" 

 

Polliver walked downstairs and saw the two bruised house slaves running past. "Hey! What is this shit? Where is the fire? Or are we bored and having some races? Is it maybe the Slave Olympics and you are training for it? Huh?" They stopped and looked at their feet.

"Our apologies, Sir. We were...frightened and threatened out of the kitchen again. That girl threatened to grate us and Piggy threatened us with a knife. They said they were cannibals! They would have killed and eaten us if we'd stayed in there!"

Polliver stared at them as if they'd switched heads.

"And you believed them. Of course. Right. Get back to your chores and I'll make sure that the pets understand you are not to be grated, stabbed, killed or eaten. Idiots...they are morons and you two are idiots...wow. Get!" He pointed and they both ran off to continue their chores elsewhere in the house.

Shutting his eyes, Polliver hit his head against the marble wall then regretted it.

"Ouch! Fuck me. Oh, dear gods, please, I am actually praying to you. If you could bless Raff, Brat and Joss with faster healing, that would be really helpful. Also, could you please, pretty fucking please with sugar on top, get Gregor to pull himself together and give us a fucking clue, some direction. And most of all, gods, I am humbly begging you to make the fucking slaves all knock it off. Its like being surrounded by submissive Dustens and my two naughty little bitches aren't making it any easier. Please give me the patience not to kill Piggy and Samara. Thank you, gods."

 

 He was already unbuckling his heavy belt as he entered the kitchen where they were preparing dinner.

"Cannibals,huh? I like that one, its amusing, its really good. It would be better if this wasn't the third or fourth fucking time we have had to discuss this shit. Getting really sick of the fighting. You think I have nothing better to do with my fucking day then discipline you assholes?"

Except what really burned Polliver was he really HAD nothing else to do all day. He was trying old contacts with minimal success and waiting for Gregor to come to a fucking decision. Waiting for Raff to get over losing his spleen and that stupid fucking hemorrhage thing. Waiting for Brat and Joss to get their asses home so he has someone to fucking talk to.

"Sorry Master but they provoke us every time! We don't start it, they do!" Piggy whined but he was wringing his hands but Samara simply tensed. "I don't want your fucking excuses! Both of you assume the position against the wall and be happy that I'm too lazy in this fucking heat to find a whip." He watched as Piggy hung his head and stomped towards the wall, looking extremely sullen.

"Watch your fucking attitude right now. You think I don't see your face, huh? Little bitch!" Polliver swung and the belt caught Piggy as he headed towards the wall. Screeching, Piggy moved faster. "I'm sorry, Master!" "You'd better fucking be! What the fuck are you thinking giving me a look like that? I'll give you a reason to-" Polliver went dead silent and still, his head cocked, eyes locked onto Piggy's own shocked orbs.

Very carefully, softly and slowly, Polliver spoke as he turned to face Samara. Piggy gave a faint moan of pure terror for his friend.

"Sweet Mother of Mercy and Love..are. you. growling. at. me?"

Samara looked like a wild animal, rabid in truth, her teeth were menacing and the growl deepened. Her eyes were focused upon Polliver's face though her eyes didn't seem to see him at all.

Polliver's eyes were flat and shiny, his body relaxed.

Piggy's stomach fell and he feebly shook his head, he raised one hand pleadingly towards his Master.

"Please..."

Polliver's voice was sweet as a kindly old woman's homemade apple pie. "Piggy, very slowly go to all fours and hush."

Piggy loved Samara, but he knew this look, that stance and most of all that voice. It was as terrifying as the first time and Piggy felt a memory of crawling, snuffling, of nearly falling over the edge of the quarry. Of having to eat a piece of Gendry. 

Shuddering, Piggy inched himself to the floor and put his head down, eyes low, mouth shut tight, tears pattering on the expensive tiles.

Samara was crouching now, moving, creaking, snarling.

Polliver was about to reach for his gun and shoot her. He wouldn't kill her if he could help it, she was Raff's to handle. But Polliver couldn't let her kill him or another either. Clearly the girl has lost it. Then Piggy peeked up and saw it from his new angle.

He knew never to disobey Polliver when he was in kill mode but this was too important.

"Master! There is a laser on you! A red dot on your forehead, it is what Samara is growling at! She can't speak to tell you! Please, it's a red dot, oh gods, is someone going to shoot you?" Piggy squealed and flinched when Polliver threw himself to the side.

The red dot remained to waver upon the wall for a second then it was gone. Polliver turned as he moved and he saw the red dot briefly.

Polliver cursed then looked at Samara.

She was on her knees now but her eyes were scanning the room her body still tensed as if waiting to attack someone.

"Okay..what the fuck is going on with this shit? If it was a hit its the worst fucking one ever. Crazy bitch, are you on my planet again? Use your voice and so help me, it better be respectful."

Samara lowered her face since she couldn't hide behind bound hair. "Yes Sir. I..couldn't tell you and I was going to leap to throw you out of the way."

Polliver shook his head then reached out and smacked hers soundly.

"You are a fucking idiot! I was about to fucking SHOOT you! I thought you'd gone fucking nuts and was going to wound you enough to keep you down. You better find a better system to let me know what the fuck you are doing! Damn it!"

He whacked her three more times in random areas before taking a deep breath and calming himself with some effort. "That wasn't any hit. No one sucks that badly. Any ideas, Piggy?"

"Yes Master. The house slaves keep a cat hidden downstairs in their quarters and they have a laser toy for it. Gives off a red dot and it can reach pretty far." Piggy blurted out quickly and indignantly. He wanted to scream "I told you so! I told you they were trying to come after us but you didn't believe us!"

Piggy saw how close to the edge Polliver had been just a moment ago. 

Polliver nodded. "Alright then. This bullshit ends now. I could have fucking killed Samara. Is that what they want, a death? They are going to find out how little it takes for me to snap into my killer mode. I'm done with this. Both of you! Follow now! Stand up and walk, faster! Move!"

He sounded like Gregor as he continued to holler and snap at the pets all the way to the slave quarters.

They looked surprised and wary to see Polliver in their area during their sanctioned meal times. One of them also looked very worried and guilty. The female that was with the boy earlier that he saw on the stairway. 

"I'm really sorry to interrupt your dinner but this is kind of important. You see, I am a pretty tolerant fucking man, just ask Piggy. But I have a snapping point and it has been fucking reached. One of you thought it would be funny to point a laser at me knowing it would set off Samara. Did you comprehend that I almost shot her? That I might have even killed her because I thought she was attacking me? Did that fucking occur at all? Did it occur how Raff would react to that when he was told? Or do you even care? So..this is a lesson you can all share."

Polliver walked over to the grey lumpy blanket and lifted it to reveal a pet carrier.

The frozen slaves watched as Polliver pulled the large grey cat out of its carrier. He gently lifted it and carried it over to the dinner table. He slit it's throat, letting the blood patter all over the table, droplets in everyone's food. Then he tossed the cat into the center of the table.

"Finish your dinners. If you throw any of it up, you'll lick that up and continue. Now eat up." Polliver turned to glare at Samara and Piggy.

"Don't think I've forgotten you two. Go finish getting our dinner ready. After we eat you two are getting the strapping of your lives. Move." He watched in satisfaction as the two of them fled. Polliver enjoyed the sight of the uppity slaves sobbing and struggling to eat bloody food in front of their own dead cat.

Well, at least his day was looking up.

 

Gregor stood at the lobby desk and tried to not strangle the nurse.

"How do you lose a patient during the daylight? With cameras every three feet and a full staff, not a single sign of her leaving? Just there one minute and not the next?" Gregor demanded but he knew.

Waif could do disappear if anyone could. She healed just enough and fled like a coward. Like she did to Drogo. It confirmed his first hurtful assumption that he was Drogo's replacement for a little fun after a good completed job.

Brat and Joss were ready to leave, waiting while Gregor went to collect Waif and visit with Raff before leaving.

Gregor finds Waif's room empty. Well, hell. 


	112. Stuck On A SeeSaw

Waif stood on the edge of the dock and waited for the boat to float closer before leaping on it.

"When are you going to learn?"

She snarled as she glared at Jaq. "Oh shut up. Just take me home, will you?"

He took no offense and laughed at her as he began to turn the boat.

"I have warned you about the heathens before, haven't I? How many times since you were old enough to hear my words have I warned you? And yet you keep trying. You are lucky I was in the area to come get your wounded, bedraggled messy self. Drogo and Gregor, both are killers, yes, but they aren't us. They don't live like us, play by our rules or understand how we are. Do you remember when we were teenagers, out begging for food and we would watch the young lovers out necking on our way? Remember when I liked that girl? Do you remember how that went, what she did to me? That lovely, sweet girl was ready to marry me..we were in love. And I had to run, because who would she have married? Would my pretty Margeary have married Jaq the faceless killer or the fake Duke? Who did she really love?"

  Waif rolled her eyes at her lecturing brother and rolled her eyes.

"You have always deluded yourself. That Tyrell bitch didn't love anyone but her brother and grandmother and herself. She thought you were royalty and rich, you egotistical ass. You fell in love with her, saw that she was going to see a problem when you never gave her a mansion. You fled and moped about like you were straight out of a Jane Austen novel. I see you are having your Wuthering Heights faze. Have you been like this since she died?"

With a face full of tight features and blazing eyes Jaq hissed,

"One day you will understand. It hurts to know you can never love, never marry, never bear children! Not with our lives, not with what we have done and seen! Even with other assassins, we try to date them, fuck them, some even marry. Look at Bronn and Lollys! If you keep up this stupid behavior, you'll get killed! Look at you, this time you almost died. Drogo is dead. If you are lucky, Gregor will leave you be. He is at his lowest point ever, you are probably the least of his issues. He is right in another enemy land. Martells know he's here and they are just biding their time. The second Raff is healed, Aerys will withdraw his protection from all of them except his own son. Gregor is fucked, really. He can't go into Westeros without being killed. He can't stay in the desert without getting killed sooner or later."

Waif stared at the sky then shut her eyes tightly.

"I can't. I can't go home. Turn the boat around and take me back to the dock."

"Are you crazy? How hard was that hit on your head? Should I worry about brain damage? You want me to take you back so you can...what? Go protect Gregor from his enemies? How well did that go for you last time? Are you an assassin or a fairy ninja godmother? What the hell are you doing? What is it that you are trying to achieve here?"

Jaq stared at her and let the boat idle.

"Just turn the damned thing around or I'll jump and swim!" Waif yelled, despairing at the thought of trying to swim while feeling so tender still.

Jaq sighed.

"If you want me to turn and bring you back then you need to answer my question. Then I'll take you back to whatever strange fate you have decided for yourself. What is it that you want out of this? What are you thinking to do? You can't just keep ghost protecting him, you can't go back to pretending to be a slave girl. What is your plan and your goal?"

Waif nodded and took a deep breath, trying to organize her thoughts. This was something they always would ask themselves. It kept them focused and alive, always looking for the next foothold, the next weak spot to hit.

Okay then, what is she thinking to do, what does she hope for?

"I have no plan yet but I will get one. I don't want to just protect Gregor. I don't want to be his slave though its fun. I want him. Not to just fuck him, I want him to be mine. When I can be there, when he can be there. And he needs to know that I wasn't using him. He does need me whether he wants to believe that or not. I'm going to make sure he knows that too. And I will warn him of the dangers facing him and let him yell that he already knew it. Whether he knew it or not is irrelevant. He is prideful, stubborn and unreasonable. Maybe I could just kidnap him and keep him somewhere?"

Jaq laughed and turned the boat around.

"I shall keep things going at the Home. Gilly has healed nicely and is back to work. We have a good amount of contracts coming from Kevan Lannister. Since you are connected in that whole mess perhaps its best that you don't return right away after all." He grinned at her.

"Sorry I had to rile you up but you needed it. Your head was a disgusting whirlpool and it was very depressing to see. Ick. I like it when you know what you want and go for it. However, kidnapping Gregor Clegane probably isn't the best way to get the man's attention. Though the mere thought of it has great comedy merit! Now I wish we could. Oh well...good luck, little sister."

 

Brat barely got into the house before Piggy flung himself at her with a large painful bear hug. "Oh gods! It's so good to see you! How are you feeling, can I get you something to drink?"

Gregor grunted and with a flick of his hand sent the boy flying into Polliver. "Stop crushing her."

Polliver gave Piggy a whack and a grin to Brat.

"Welcome to our new humble abode. Wait till you see the shit going on around here. At least I'll finally have someone to talk to besides a rabid mute, a pouty babbling Piggy or a large grunting wall."

Grinning, Brat walked slowly forward, looking around. "This city is pretty, it feels like walking through history. All marble, stone and sand everywhere. Look at these thick carpets! I don't feel like we belong here though."

Piggy muttered, "You don't know the half of it." He led her into the kitchen and got her some coffee. "It is their version of coffee...but I do what I can with it."

Wincing, Brat took a sip. "Yeah, had to spit it out the first time the hospital gave m a cup of it. Ugh. But I am getting used to it. So...tell me everything before everyone else comes this way."

She hunched down as Piggy flew over and leaned down to start whispering about everything that has happened since they arrived.

 

 

Joss maneuvered his crutches and swung himself into the house, grunting with the effort. "Gee, where are the fucking balloons and banners, you motherfucker!"

He smirked at Polliver who laughed. "For you we would have hired a parade but the city is fresh out of fucking high school bands and baton twirlers. But hey, I got something so much better."

Taking Joss by the shoulder, Polliver points out the house slaves that are wandering by.

"They are ours until we leave. You can't leave any injuries or wounds that might leave permanent damage but anything is else is fair game. And these arrogant little cunts have been fucking with Piggy and Samara constantly. I spend more times breaking up slave rumbles then anything else. Hell, at this point I am thinking of putting them in a fucking stone circle and charging admission, take on bets. These little sand servants disapprove of our pets and they hate us."

Polliver watched Joss's eyes light up and he mentally patted his own back.

He is sure that Joss will spent his sadistic tendencies out onto the enemy slaves instead of his Piggy or Samara. He would have to hurt Joss if he went after Piggy again and if he goes for Samara, the girl might flat out kill him.

This took care of these worries and Polliver was pleased with himself for solving something so easily.

 

Gregor went to the patio of off his bedroom.

He stared out at the perfect gardens, full of slaves that tend the exotic plants and flowers. They were spies, they were enemies and they hated the rough strange guests walking through their lovely gardens and homes.

Everywhere they go they aren't welcome.

Not here and not Westeros. 

He heard a sound behind him and didn't turn around. "What do you want?"

Samara knelt down next to him and a hoarse voice. "Please...can't I see my Master?"

"How many times has Polliver said no to this request? The answer is the same. No. Do not ask again or I'm going to stick you in a muzzle."

"Yes Sir." Samara began to crawl away, tears streaming, hated braid dragging after her.

Gregor made an impatient sound and gestured at her.

"Oh stand up. Gods, that was pitiful. Raff gets the tube out of his throat tomorrow. As soon as he has a voice I am sure he will ask about you. I will allow a phone call if he wishes to speak to you. Now go make yourself useful."

Gasping in pure joy at the small hope of hearing Raff's voice, Samara gave the tiniest of smiles.

"Thank you, Sir! Thank you! I will go be very useful, I promise!" She nearly ran out of the room but she felt as if she were flying.

Gregor got sick of hearing her clicking sounds and had a chiropractor come in to fix the girl. He spent five hours and the sounds he produced as he put the girl's bones right sounded worse than any torture Gregor has ever done to a person.

 

That night at dinner the table had more plates upon it and was certainly louder than usual. Gregor found it soothing to see his family laughing, insulting each other as they shared their meal. Piggy served only Polliver while the house slaves placed the food upon the table. He stood just behind Polliver and Samara knelt on his other side. 

Brat complimented Piggy's food until he turned red and Polliver started to tease him for it.

Joss leaned over and looked down at Samara. "I have heard from the house slaves that Samara is a rabid little pit-bull. Is this true? Did she really have a muzzle and straitjacket? I would have loved to see that one! Does Raff know how dangerous and bad his little girl really is?"

A very low growl grew and though her eyes remained low, they glowed with warning.

Polliver delivered a harsh backhand. "Take out that damned braid and get under your hair. Didn't I tell you when work was done for the day you could take that braid out? Huh? DIdn't I tell you to kneel and stay silent? You growling at one of our own? Bad girl!"

Another flurry of whacks across whatever parts of her Polliver could reach while she cowered and yelped.

Quickly, the girl pulled her hair forward and knelt silently.  

  

Gregor looked over at Joss and shook his head.

"Samara is off limits to you. Not to rape, not to sexually approach in any way. She is off limits in every way. Do not taunt her or bully her. She isn't stable without Raff. If you set her off, the girl might actually kill you or at least give it one hell of a good try. So leave her alone, Joss. Plenty of others to play with that won't rip your heart out and eat it in front of you."

Joss stared at the girl and shuddered. She had her hair in her face like a long black curtain and yet he had the sensation she was staring at him. He smirked but agreed.

"Gotcha. Can I give basic orders, can she serve me in a platonic way? Or if she and I are in the kitchen, do I have to wait for fucking Piggy to have coffee?"

Brat snorted. "Or you could get off your lazy ass and get your own frigging coffee!"

"What is the point of servants if they aren't serving?" Joss grinned.

Gregor grumbled, "The pets are loyal to us and will obey and respect you the same as they do the rest of us. Just don't push it, you moronically tall Daddy Long Legs."

Joss gave a salute with his beer bottle.

"I shall not attempt to rape, molest or torment Raff's rabid lapdog."

He said nothing of Piggy but no one noticed.

Except Piggy, he noticed and he also noticed Joss's eyes leering at him when no one looked.

Fuck. Here we go again.

Worse was he saw that the damned bitch Zuli saw it too. Double fuck.


	113. When You Know The Vacation Is Over

Piggy had peace for a few days and it was wonderful. He cleaned, he cooked, he served and he chattered to Brat.

While she was healing, she couldn't do much else but be held hostage by Piggy and his gossip. He bitched about everything and she teased him out of his bad moods. Samara got to have her phone call to Raff and she has been cheerful ever since. She even joined into the teasing of Piggy.

"If I give you permission to speak, can you?" Brat asked and Samara shrugged, looking at Gregor nearby. Brat called over, "Can I give Samara permission to speak if she is with me?" Gregor nodded and walked away, taking out his cell to make a call. He has been mostly silent and brooding. No one dared to ask him anything but they all wondered about what came next.

"Okay, you may speak."

Samara grinned then in a soft voice she began to join in making fun of Piggy's bemoaning of life. Then she told them about how Raff told her he missed her and will be home soon. That he was proud of her for protecting the family. It made Brat uneasy how Samara's face lit as if she spoke of talking to an actual god. It didn't seem to bother Piggy any, in fact he seemed to find it normal.

It made Brat a bit sad for them and she came up with a brilliant idea. 

"Let's get the hell out of here! Both of you, let's go! You just said that this gumbo takes hours just to simmer, right? Everything is pretty much done, you did all your chores. Rather than go walk the tiresome fucking gardens again, we can go all tourist. We can look around and make fun of shit."

Piggy and Samara looked excited and apprehensive.

"Uh..are you sure? We are supposed to go through the slave city to go places if we leave the guest house." Piggy muttered, wringing his hands.

"Well, you are with me and they can't expect me to spend my day wandering the slave areas, what fun is in that? Just stay close and keep pretending to be submissive and respectful." Brat joked as she dragged the two of them right out the front door and headed for the end of the estate so they could enter the main city.

 

A large man standing at a ornate red gate frowned at them. "What is this?"

Brat smiled at him, trying for diplomacy and patience.

"I am the daughter of Gregor Clegane. These are our property, I am bringing them with me as I look about your lovely city. That way if I want to buy something they can carry it. Is this a problem?"

The man raised an eyebrow.

"You want to just take them like that? These slaves are not like ours, they do not understand our rules. I have heard about this little feral. If you take them, she must be muzzled first and both with a leash. If you do not have these items, ask one of the house slaves to retrieve these things for you." 

Brat narrowed her eyes at the man.

"She isn't going to chew her way through the streets, I can assure you. And they don't need leashes because they don't run off. They lived where they could walk by themselves for miles alone without their Masters worrying that they wouldn't return. They are loyal and fiercely protective of their Masters and their family. Now please let us pass."

The man crossed his arms and stood in front of the gate.

"You are no longer in your homeland, are you? This is a very different place with different rules and ways. I will let you take the boy out as he is. But the feral doesn't leave here unless it is with a leash and muzzle. If you want her to walk freely then I suggest the gardens or the slave city?"

Samara shrugged. She really didn't care if she went out or not. Still under the blanket order from Brat to be allowed to speak, Samara took advantage of it.

"I don't mind going back inside, Brat. Thank you for the offer to walk with you. I might go to the slave city to stretch my legs, if I wanted to be taunted and fucked with." Staring directly at the man now, Samara hissed out, "My equals are more cruel and dangerous than the ones who own them. Is that always the way here?"

He stared at her with his mouth open as Samara turned and began to calmly walk back to the guest area.

Brat and Piggy grinned meanly at the man. "Well, now will you open the damned door?" Brat demanded and with a scowl the man opened the gate and gestured them to leave.

 

Gregor stood on his balcony, his hands tightly gripped the stone railing, looking out over the garden.

He saw Samara making her way through it. The gardener saw her and shied away. Samara went past two other slaves and they clearly were making fun of her. Ignoring them, the tiny girl simply continued her walk then went into the back door.

She looked out of place even wearing the same clothing. They all looked out of place, they don't belong here. As soon as Raff is recovered they have to get the fuck out of this sandy hell hole. It was elegant, it was lovely but it was a hell hole all the same.

There was no way he was working for fucking Aerys and the Martells have made sure it was known they were out for blood. The second Raff was better, the minute Aerys took away his protection, they would be attacked. Not a single house would protect them, if anything they would just all join in to slaughter them. The Martells were quite beloved where the Targaryens were feared.

Going home was not an option. What home? The North is firmly under holy fist of Kevan Lannister. The South was divided into two. It was half under the holy fist of Kevan and half under the elegant fist of Olenna Tyrell. The second Gregor steps a little toe onto Westeros land, there will be a hundred killers that would be happy to kill him and his family for the rich bastard's holy money.

What houses, what allegiances, what leaders are left to hire him? To want Gregor to be their main protection, or their inquisitors, the group that takes on any dirty, dangerous job? Who will pay them and house them in a manner they are used to? Who the hell was left that didn't either want them dead or was afraid to associate with them? 

_I am failing. I have failed them and myself. I lost and I lost everything this time._

 

"Well here is a sight I never thought to see. Gregor Clegane giving up. At least that is what this looks like to me. This can't be a fun vacation for you but it can't be all that bad." Waif's voice floated down.

Gregor would go to his grave silent as Samara when ordered by Raff to be quiet, before he would ever admit how he felt when he heard Waif's calm, soft voice. His fingers dug into the stone and he composed himself before he lifted his head to respond. Craning his neck, he searched the peaks of roofs above the balcony.

"I am not giving up. I am trying to thing of a fucking way out of this shit storm. Did you come back to taunt me? Is this your strange way of breaking up? No wonder why Drogo wanted to kill you."

Waif would never admit how good it was to hear his grumble. She was afraid that his voice would be depressed or in a stage of despair she couldn't pull him out of. That tends to happen to some after a large defeat. 

"Drogo wanted to kill me for the same reason he wanted to kill Lollys. He can't stand the thought of a female leaving him anymore than he can stand a dominant female. I am not here to taunt you, I am here because I want to help you."

Gregor snorted and finally saw the movement a few feet above him behind a decorative turret. 

"I don't need your fucking help. What will you do? Go and slaughter all the Martells, then maybe stop by the North and South? Wipe out Kevan and his fanatics, then maybe a quick jaunt over to destroy Olenna Tyrell? You go do those things for me, that is help. Call me when you are done, yeah? Thanks."

"Gods, you sound like a petulant little boy! Stop having a temper tantrum and pull yourself together. That isn't what I meant by help and you know that. Listen, I came back because I wanted to not because I had to. My time with you...it had nothing to do with Drogo, no matter what you or he think. I stayed after I took the target out because I...liked you. Not just the thrill of playing your slave, not just the sex. It was you, your confidence, your own sadism and joy within it. The way you held such pride over your group, the protection and care you gave to them. The dedication to each other was fascinating to me. It still is. You are fascinating to me...I like being with you. I like to pamper you, I like to hear you speak, to watch you work. Hell, I like to brew special teas and watch you drink them. I am fucked up, Gregor, you fucked me up!"

He laughed harshly at her own loss of temper. "Now who is the unreasonable child? Its my fault that you are fucked up? That isn't possible. I know how I treated you, Waif...any person that would deliberately allow that...must be crazy to do it in the first place." Gregor thought of Sansa and shuddered.

"Gregor, I enjoy pain. I enjoy inflicting it but I love to recieve it as well. I loved pampering and serving you, it never bothered me. The only part that bothered me was that it couldn't be real. That I couldn't just tell you who I was and have you still like me. And how dare you be angry about that? Consider the fact that the only reason you rarely have done acting work is because of how you look. Hard to look like anything but a giant, menacing man. But your crew, they have all done the same type of jobs. They have acted for surveillance, for cover until they could kidnap, torture, steal or kill."

Waif moved so that she was in full view now.

"I didn't come here for us to fight or debate or even for closure. I came here for another reason. I came to tell you something and to show you that you do need me. Will you allow me to try and prove to you that you need me? I am asking for a few hours of your time, please let me show you that you need me. You have always taken a challenge on before...or has that changed?"

Glaring at her with mistrust, Gregor grumbled out, "I don't need you and I have no urge to waste my time with anymore of your bullshit. Come down here and I'm going to give you that beating I promised you."

With a tiny smile full of hurt and determination, she shot back, "No urge to waste your time? What are you doing now? I have watched you all day moping about. You search the internet, you call your contacts, you find out what word of mouth news there is and none of it has helped you. You do this fruitless search then you roam around aimlessly. You rarely talk to the others even though it is clear they are waiting for your guidance. Then you stand here at this balcony to stare into the garden until its meal time. After that its exercising yourself half to death until you can finally fall asleep. Which part of all this isn't wasting your time?"

Gregor roared his defense.

"I have been trying to find a new place for my family! Been finding out just how fucked we are! Is that what I should tell them huh? I don't want or need your fucking help, I already found us something. Go away or come put your collar back on and take your punishment. I'm sure the clinic will have your bed still available."

Waif gave a small laugh. "No, I'll never wear your collar again except in play. And which is it? You have figured out how fucked you are or your found something?"

"I know how fucked we are. I found us something. The Greyjoys on Pyke are at war within themselves. Asha and Euron are evenly matched, both could use our help." Gregor spoke almost as if he already knew how small and shitty that would be.

"You are going to go and peddle yourselves to the highest bidder on an island of drunk pirates? Gregor, do you hear yourself? I dare you to give me one chance to show you how I can help you." Waif crept closer but still out of reach.

"No. Leave, go. I am letting you go without retaliation, do you understand that? Now just leave me alone. I mean, why the fuck do you keep coming back? Are you stalking me?" Gregor stared up at Waif and his usual antics he pulls on his men when they pissed him off kicked in.

With a face full of fake fear and concern, Gregor clapped his hands to the sides of his face.

"Do you have an alter full of pictures of me? Maybe a necklace made from my nail clippings? Does this all end with you boiling Piggy and Samara in a pot and kidnapping my men to lure me to a beheading?"

Waif sighed and rolled her eyes. 

"You are acting like-"

"Do you have delusions maybe? Do you think I needed a fucking conscience or do you think you are the little angel on my shoulder or something?" Gregor's face suddenly lit up as if he found the answer to world peace and the cure to all cancers. He gave a clap and spread his arms wide.

"I know, you are ill! You see everything like in a fucking Disney movie, don't you? Do you see yourself as a little Jiminy Cricket, are you going to sing inspirationally for me now. Oh perfect, here comes the sunset. Go on, sing for me, I'll stare up with big eyes full of hope and miracles."  

"Coward."

 

The word dropped down onto Gregor's head like the world taking a final complete and full shit upon his head.

"What? What did you call me?"

His voice was a mere whisper and he stood so very still, so very still so that the cracks won't fully run and shatter him. He has been called that before, they never get to live after saying it. Hearing it from this girl,knowing who and what she was, it hurt.

It was a hard strike and Gregor was unable to bear one more fucking thing, not one more derogatory fucking thing.

Waif dropped down and stood in front of him.

"Show me you are not a coward. Accept my dare, my challenge. Let me show you how I can help you. Please."

Gregor stared down and his hands curled, thinking of her neck. "I"m going to kill you."

"No, you're not. Accept my help. Take the challenge."

"I'm going to put you in traction."

"No. I don't like being in traction. Take my challenge. What have you got left to lose, Gregor? If you are willing to go as far as the Greyjoys then you can be willing to try letting me help you."

"You have three hours then I'm going to put you in traction before I kill you."

Waif didn't bother to tell Gregor that he didn't make any sense and just took the giant man's hand in her own to pull him inside.

 

She put his favorite inspirational playlist as Waif tended to him. Gregor kept expressionless and allowed her to do as she wanted.

All four Rocky theme songs played as he rested in a bubble bath while Waif massaged and oiled his head. Waif had ordered the house slaves to set up the best massage area they could. Chariots of Fire filled the room while Waif carefully dried Gregor with a thick towel.

A manicure and pedicure while Waif struggled not to ask why The Greatest American Hero was in the list. She saw in Gregor's eyes then a younger boy that must have watched this on a broken tv and dreamed.

Wilson Phillips suggested lyrically that Gregor should hold on one more day as he began to feel Waif's oiled fingers do their magic upon his muscles and flesh. Waif gave him a full body massage then used her mouth to conclude his relaxation.

With great care, Waif set out the clothing she had managed to get Jaq to bring her.

"I had started to work on the buttons myself as soon as yours was destroyed. I had to pay a handsome amount to get another piece of Rhaegar's skull. I use the same traders you do, you know. I ordered the suit and shoes a day or so before the attack. Luckily, since we were in the area, it wasn't hard for me to pick it up."

Gregor looked at the suit. It was even better quality then the one he had before. The buttons were perfect upon the suit jacket. A wooden box sat nearby and he opened it. Decorative gold and diamond G cuff links. Grunting, he put them down and looked at the dragon skin shoes with a touch of coral snake for a legal looking texture.

"How much do I owe for this?"

Waif shook her head. "Nothing. I wanted to give it to you. I have money, Gregor. If I want to use it on someone, I do."

She began to dress Gregor as if he were being carefully attired for a coronation.

He was dressed, Waif gave his head a last shine then gently pushed him towards the full length mirror. On their way they stopped for Waif to slowly slip rings upon his fingers. 

Gregor surveyed himself slowly in the mirror. Straightened his spine, rotated his neck and shoulders. Made a few adjustments in his collar then stared at his image.

"Does this look like a man that goes peddling his services to pirates fighting over rocks and water? Does this look like a man that hides behind a dragon banner? Does this look like a man who needs to latch himself to someone more powerful to care for him and his crew? No, I think that man is gone. In fact, that man who had to work for other powerful men is gone too. This man looks like he wants to be the top man for a change. This man looks like one that would go back and kill Kevan Lannister. You gave it one try but you had the wrong partners. So you lost one. Now go fix it. You don't fight for others anymore. Not this man. This one fights for himself and his family."

Gregor turned to look at Waif. "What are the right partners? Who is left that Kevan hasn't got cornered or on the run? Who is left that doesn't despise us or laugh at us?"

"Those tired old houses full of old money aren't the answer anymore. Maybe its time for other options in partners. The North and South are sick of being ruled by the upper classes and Kevan has torn that all down. Let's not give them a chance to rebuild that structure after you get rid of Kevan and his crusaders. We can make the upper classes negotiate with us instead. We can look to be the heroes to those liberated from Kevan. It can be seen that you saved them from the mistake you will admit to have made, working for the Lannisters. We can let Raff talk for you and make you recieve the support of the common folk. Once you have that, you have everything. Make the upper class have to deal with you. Do you see?"

He looked at Waif with raised eyebrows. "We? You said we. And you said us. Explain that part now."

Waif walked over the to the small bar and poured two glasses of expensive Dornish wine. She gave one glass to Gregor.

"I want to be your partner. I am quite rich and I own an orphanage as well as a few other ventures. My brother and I have quite a reputation for ourselves and few dare to cross us. Perhaps living as a faceless shadow is wearing on me. It's time to come into the light a little and join a cause I want to belong to. Join with a person I want to be with."

Waif's face lost it's smooth features, seemed to weaken then and her eyes seemed to have a shine to them then it was suppressed. But when her eyes met Gregor's, she did the bravest thing Waif has ever done. She let him see her emotions for him.

Sipping her wine, Waif looked away then murmured, "Think upon it. Even if you don't wish to associate or partner with me, look to other similar groups. You are a leader not a follower. If you are interested in my idea, let me know, I left a card with a number on it for you. You can always reach me with it. Look at yourself in the mirror and decide what you want, Gregor. I only wish we could want some of the same things."

She put her glass down and headed for the balcony.

Gregor stared into the mirror but called after her. "You can use the stairs, you don't have to act like fucking Spiderman. I know your capabilities and talents, stop showing off.

With a gasp of outrage, Waif poked her head back in. "Showing off? You threatened to put me in traction and kill me. I'm not trusting you to walk past you towards the stairs. Safer to go right onto the balcony then the roof."

"If I was going to hurt you or kill you, it would have happened somewhere while you were so close, tending to me. Where are you going? Back home or are you going to camp out on the roof and follow me around like a crushing drooling ninja?"

Gregor looked back into the mirror.

"The Mountain. They called me that even in grade school because of my size. My looks sort of predestined me, don't you think? I didn't get as far as I did without hard work and so much fucking sacrifice. How many of those clown faced idiots had worked and sacrificed? It must have been a good amount to attack and die for it. The Mountain will land on Kevan's fucking chapel and crush it. Let's get your brother on the phone and discuss negotiations. You and I...one of us will kill the other eventually, you know that, right?"

Waif took one step into the room and leaned her head against the wall, grinning. "Yeah. I know that."

Gregor nodded and gruffly commanded, "Call your brother. We have no time to waste. I'm done with this fucking vacation."

 

Brat and Piggy got as far as two blocks before all hell broke loose.

They found themselves running back as angry jeering slaves chased Piggy throwing camel feces, fruit and rocks at him. Any filth or stone that hit Brat was by accident, all the attention was on the boy.

When they had stopped at a small market is when things went sour fast. Brat was admiring a tent full of blades and Piggy wandered over to the next stall over. It was full of spices and herbs that made Piggy curious.

"Excuse me? I am or was a chef, I would love it if you could show me some of the rare seasonings here? My Master allows me to purchase cooking items." Piggy was polite and smiled brightly at the scowling old woman. The only part of her he could see was a wrinkled face, the rest of her covered in a gauzy wrapped material.

With a look of angry disgust, the woman pointed at his collar, said something derogatory in a language Piggy didn't speak. But the intent of the words was clear and she shooed him away. Piggy glared at her and put his chin up.

"Fine. You are such a rude store keep. It's amazing you get any business at all. Do you understand that I would have bought half your stock today? You just lost out on a great deal, lady."

Piggy can't understand what he said that was so offensive but the next thing he knew she was screaming at him. Her fists waved then she started to hit him with a broom.

He ran to Brat whom was still holding the last knife the man was showing her. Now the woman screamed more, pointing at Piggy,then at the girl holding a knife. Apparently the woman thought Brat was threatening her over the slave.

The next thing they knew they were running from a crowd of villagers throwing things at them. One of the crowd was the seller of the knives who was now screaming that the girl has stolen one of his best blades.   

The man at the gate took his sweet time opening to let the two covered and harassed foreigners inside the safety of Targaryen estates.

"If you'd just give the man back his blade, that would solve any legal charges you might be looking at." The man suggested with much humor as he plucked the knife from Brat and handed it to the angry man.

Brat and Piggy stood there panting for a moment. The they started to laugh and couldn't stop. The man told them they were crazy and they agreed loudly before heading towards the house to get cleaned up.

"We have to get the hell out of this place before someone tears us apart." Piggy said and Brat nodded.

"I know. I'm going to finally do what everyone else is afraid to do. I'm going to ask Gregor what the fuck our plan is."


	114. Goodbyes, Hellos And Announcments

Polliver was in the kitchen taunting the shit out of Brat and Piggy for their riotous day out. Joss came limping on in to hear why Polliver was laughing so hard and soon he was joining him.

They all went silent when Gregor entered the room. He was dressed in a new suit, he had fire and purpose in his eyes. Next to him stood Waif not dressed nearly as elegant but not wearing a collar nor in traction.

"Our vacation has come to an end which I think we are all ready for." Gregor announced and he watched as their faces all grew relieved and then full of anticipation. Even the two slaves.

Waif had mentioned them upstairs.

"Have you seen the UnSeelie in Mereen? They are slave soldiers. Loyal and deadly and obedient to the very bloodiest end. Look at what you have. Samara is only a feral rabid thing if you let her be. She is loyal to anyone Raff is loyal to. Look at how good she is without any training. Now imagine if you trained her to do the lesser jobs? Have her do spying and wet work? They can set fires, make bombs, hell, smuggle. Have that boy do some spying and hell, he can kill if need be. Train them and then take the leash off the collar and let them be working pets. That adds two more to your work force for now until you build up."

 

Gregor looked at all of them before he spoke.

"We are making some changes in our company. Our family. This includes the fucking two slaves hiding behind Polliver. Move your asses so I can see you both. Girl, stop trying to undo that braid before I break your fingers. Is it after dinner? No? It's almost dinner time. Is that the time for you to hide behind your hair? No. So stop it. I do not like being vexed."

Samara finally put her hands behind her back and Gregor continued.

"Piggy and Samara are going to be working pets. Not just in the house, they will use their other talents, any talents they have for the family whenever needed. So I want them to train. Teach them to properly fight and use weaponry. Teach them to steal, to spy, to create and set bombs. Teach them anything you think they can do well."

Gregor stared at Polliver who was staring open-mouthed at his leader.

"Don't you trust your own slave, Polliver? I know Raff trusts his girl completely. I've already called him and he has agreed to allow Samara to train."

Polliver shut his mouth with a snap. "Of course I trust my Piggy. Yeah, he can train if you want. I just don't see him doing what we do, Sir."

 

Gregor started to head into the dining room as the house slaves came in to serve dinner. They saw the extra girl and looked up at Gregor. "You have an extra guest for dinner, Sir? Shall I set an extra place?" 

Nodding, Gregor said, "Yes and after you put everything out you are dismissed from the room until we are done. You'll shut the door when you leave."

The girl said she understood and went to tell the others of the unusual new order.

 

Gregor and Waif waited until the last house slave had left the room.

Brat locked the door behind them and shut all the curtains. The room had already been swept three times by Waif and Gregor. The first time through they found three bugs. One last one was found on their second sweep through. Third time they found nothing at all. Even still, they kept their voices low and all sat closer than usual.

The food wasn't as interesting as the speakers and most of it went to the pets. Brat had filled a bowl of gumbo and set down before Samara along with a bowl of water. The girl was on her hands and knees next to Polliver's left side, nearly touching Joss's leg.

"I don't know why you can't let her eat with utensils like a person." Brat complained.

"Because she likes to growl at us when she is annoyed. Just like a bad dog does. So this is how she can eat, just like a dog."

Polliver made sure Piggy served him everything he wanted then he snapped for Piggy to kneel next to him on the right side.

"When was the last time you or her ate? I never see you eating or heading down to the slave kitchen for the meal times. Are you getting an eating disorder on me? I'll beat the fucking disorder right out of you!"

"No, Master! I..we don't eat with the others or use their kitchen. They hate it and we can't be near them without a fight happening. We nibble at the stuff we cook for you and eat your leftovers."

Rolling his eyes, Polliver whacked Piggy's ear.

"You are fucking idiots. I swear to the gods how did you survive this long? How did you stay alive before I saved your fat ass? Well, your ass isn't fat now and its heading towards non existent. Next time tell me you need food, idiot boy."

Polliver filled a bowl to near spilling of the gumbo then another bowl with water.

"Here. For being stupid you get to eat just like the doggie girl does. Enjoy. For now on you and the girl will use our kitchen to eat your meals just before or after you make ours. Now eat and be happy that I don't stick my boot up your asses. Idiots."

 

Gregor waited until the slaves were chastised and eating before beginning. 

"We are going to kill Kevan Lannister and destroy his fanatical little world. We will partner with Waif and Jaq, the Home is funding us. We shall also speak with other groups and see who wants in. I want a fucking army. We are no longer working for anyone else. We work for ourselves only. We are taking over the North by saving it. Raff will use his silver tongue to soothe and get the commoners to follow us. They will hear of how we are not rich old money trying to stomp them down. In fact, any houses left will have to come to us for protection, for help. Kevan has already torn the structure of the old ways down. We just need to destroy what Kevan created and then make our own structures."

"And we are partnering with your former slave and her merry band of lunatic faceless killers? The boogeyman of killers? Nice. Except how does this work? Even with the Home behind us, it isn't enough, is it?" Polliver asked as he stuffed gumbo into his mouth.

Gregor and Waif both grinned.

"We have an idea of some folks who might be interested in getting some revenge upon Kevan. Who wants and needs to see the man fall. Polliver, you get to be the one to speak with some of them. You are being sent on a trip to go find some folks who just might want our help. I would normally send Raff but the best I can do with him is bring him here tomorrow."

Samara looked up then and gave a small whine and her eyes begged them to say she heard right. 

"He's still pretty banged up but he can walk a bit now without needed a walker or assistance. It's time to bring Raff home where he belongs. We all will leave together when it isn't expected, but not until we have Raff sorted and where we are going next figured out."

 

Samara had been a nervous wreck all morning and she even got into a small argument with Polliver. It was clear that he won when everyone heard his belt cracking against flesh and Samara's muffled cries. 

Piggy tried to console her when she explained to him that Raff has never approved her wearing this braid. When they talked the once on the phone, she forgot to mention it. Now it was haunting her, what if the braid angered him? Couldn't she break one small rule and put her hair down? 

"You know they let us stretch and break a shitload of the slave rules around here. Half the reason the others hate us. But some rules are important to them more than others. They have a real thing about hair. No female slave can have their hair loose for whatever stupid ass reason. You're lucky that Gregor lets you take it down at night. Maybe Raff can change that, it's his dad that makes the rules." Samara sniffed and nodded.

Polliver came by and glared first at Samara then his eyes lit more fondly upon Piggy.

"Hey you. Now...while I am gone I know you worry about Joss even though you don't need to. So you can sleep in my room with the door locked while I am gone. Do. Not. Use. My. Bed. Sleep on the floor or the stupid divan thing. Samara has the closet already. You two can have a fucking sleepover."

Piggy smiled at Polliver. "Thank you Master. I am grateful."

That won't stop Joss, Piggy was sure of it but at least he had a sanctuary he could escape to.

"Good. You should be grateful, stupid. Every day you should wake up and thank all the gods that I wandered across your dumb ass. Do your normal chores. Obey the others, do as you are told and keep your mouth as shut as much as you can. No smart mouthing, no starting shit with the other slaves. Don't leave this estate. If you get sick of the gardens and the house then you can walk the slave city. No wait...you'll start shit there too, I just know someone will set you off and that fucking mouth will open. Just the house and gardens. Tell you what, you behave while I'm gone and I'll walk you through the fucking village market myself when I get back. Let them fuck with me or throw stones at you while I'm there. Yeah?"

Polliver tousled Piggy's hair then gave him an almost friendly whack to the back that nearly sent the boy flying.

"I can't believe Gregor is going to waste his time training you two. I mean, don't get me wrong, Piggy. I already know you are fierce and a killer when you must be. Same with the she-bitch over there. What you two need training is in restraint so you don't get all cocky at the wrong time and get yourselves killed. Instead, Gregor is teaching you even more ways to kill when you get triggered. Raff and I made you guys slaves, now Gregor is making you into weapons. Weapons can discharge at the wrong time. Weapons can be misused or stolen by another. I have plenty of weapons and only one Piggy. See the difference? Anyway, you'll do fine. Just do as your told, stay in the areas you are supposed to and keep your fucking mouth to yourself, Samara and Brat. And stay the fuck off my bed and don't you dare go reading or watching my porn!"   

Polliver moved fast as if to lunge towards Piggy and the boy flinched. Laughing, Polliver patted his cheek and said, "See? Still a coward. But only a coward for those of us you should be a coward too. Bye, Piggy."

 

Samara tried so very hard to be patient and good. She barely even noticed the stinging on her back from Polliver's belt. Then again, Samara has felt his belt as much as Piggy. She know exactly how hard Polliver can strike when he is angry. This beating was not only much briefer than usual but it had less force.

Afterwards, he bent down and yanked up her head to whisper roughly.

"We all hate this fucking place and the fucking rules. You are going to follow and endure the same amount of bullshit we all are. Now I understand that you are just scared about Raff's reaction. I understand you are excited to see him and terrified that something will go wrong. Stop and calm yourself. Your Master doesn't want to see or hear about a misbehaving, growling, frantic pet, does he? Of course not. He wants to see his little girl all submissive and obedient. So take a deep breath and pull yourself together. Keep your hair braided and if Raff doesn't like it he will remove it himself. Understand me? Now get back to your chores."

Samara took the words with stoic, silent anger and left to whine to Piggy. Once she did calm herself she was able to see how in his own way Polliver was trying to help her calm down. To keep her from getting in trouble with her Master as he came home. He left before Samara could try and thank him.

She knelt on the floor trembling so badly that she had to go to all fours just so she wouldn't fall over.

Samara was already crying and softly whining though she didn't know it. She also wasn't aware of how Brat, Piggy, Waif and even Joss gave her a look of pity. Samara rested her head on the floor and tried to keep hope that it wasn't a trick. Or that something terrible didn't happen. What if there was a car accident on the way back? What if Raff wasn't ready to leave after all? What if he hemorrhaged again? 

Then the door opened and Gregor came in with a thinner, slower version of her Master. His hair looked a bit longer and certainly it needed a good cut, some styling. 

Raff trained her too well for her to just lunge forward as she wanted to. Instead, Samara knelt, drinking in the sight of her Master and she waited, giving a low whine. Gregor helped Raff inside and when the man's eyes lit upon Samara, she sobbed and whined louder.

He smirked and gestured towards her. Samara crawled as fast as she could to rub against his leg, to kiss his shoe, to kiss and lick his hand.

"Good girl. Did you miss me, poor little thing?" Raff stroked her hair and back, allowing the adoration and worship. Gregor gave a snort of disgust and walked away. Brat and Waif stared at Raff with revulsion, Joss with sadistic interest. Raff looked at them all and asked, "What?"

The only reason Piggy didn't dare join Brat and Waif in the shame stare was remembering the last time he let Raff see disgust or upset at him. Piggy didn't want to release the fucking dragon on his own ass, he doesn't have the protection of equality to dare it. Even injured Piggy was sure that Raff could find a pretty awful punishment.

Piggy wasn't sure if he shared Samara's joy that Raff was back.

On one hand, Samara was finally happy, however Piggy doesn't think anything will change. Will Samara become devastated the first time he hurts her? It's been a while and Samara has become more independent and her face shows now.

Has she forgotten what Raff was like before, does she think he might not hurt her now? If so, she'll be crushed soon enough. Why didn't he ask her about this shit, dammit? What if Raff doesn't like this new version of Samara?

Piggy had a problem of his own, that's why. I'm a bad friend because I am trying to keep myself from being attacked. He mused as he started to put out things to prep for dinner.

Samara is with Raff and if nothing else it means her protection just increased. Being Aerys son held a shitload of sway.

Already the house slaves are calling Raff "Master" and falling all over him to serve. It was a bit amusing to watch Samara try to not react to the other slaves fawning over her Master. Them calling him by the same title nearly sent her over the edge. Her eyes glowed with jealousy and her teeth bared in a silent growl at them. Piggy watched as Raff said nothing but clearly enjoyed his pet's reactions.

Piggy wished he could warn the moron not to play those games. Samara can't handle that, she is too mentally fragile. If Raff plays the other slaves and shows them favor or gods forbid, fucks them in front of her....

 _He is too thin and sickly for me to cook that is for sure._ Piggy grinned at his own joke and went back to crushing garlic.

 

Samara knelt silently, burning not from Polliver's belt earlier, no, she burned with rage at those sluts, whores, vengeful cunts.

Raff was carefully tended to by them.

She was swept aside then Raff told her to stay. It took everything to keep the hurt from shining from her eyes and yet she knew that Raff knew she felt that way. He knew everything and his little look at her told her so.

Lowering her eyes, she didn't let the rage smoldering inside show, not even Master could see it. Her hair was still away from her face, but her eyes were down and she burned a hole through the exotic carpet instead.

They put Raff on an overstuffed large couch in the living room. Fluffing and placing pillows, running to bring him anything he might need. A small table was set up with his medications, a large pitcher of ice water, some pudding, fruit and a promise of soup if Raff wished it.

That brought a holler from the kitchen. "I am making Raff soup now! It only needs another hour of simmering."

A smile appeared on Samara's face then as the slaves wrinkled their noses.

Raff was intrigued by this. "What is wrong, Zuli? You don't like Piggy's soup?"

"Master, I don't like his cooking truthfully. But I thought that smell was the garbage he hadn't brought out yet, not soup. Let us make you the healing soup you grew up with. Please, we already made some, knowing you were coming. We cooked it in our kitchen last night, it is simmering now. It will ease your belly and give your nose hope against whatever that is in the kitchen."

Chuckling, Raff reached out and gave a playful whack to Zuli's ass.

"Ah, I see now. Is there a little war going on with Polliver's boy and my girl with you all? I am sorry, but I have grown used to other foods. I like Piggy's cooking. And I am desperate for a cup of his coffee as well as some of his soup. But I will also have a little bit of your soup later on."

Samara wasn't even aware of her tears, she was in misery.

Seeing Raff talking to that evil witch so fondly, then smacking her bottom in such a familiar way. The smug looks she received from the slaves were almost more than she could bear. Then Raff looked over at her with his usual arrogant smirk. He snapped his fingers to watch her crawl fast towards him.

"I can't cuddle you on my lap, little girl but you can lay on my legs. Up, Samara."

With a cry of elation, Samara carefully and gently climbed up the couch. She carefully arranged herself on his legs and then surged into his touch. Raff caressed her hair and squeezed the back of her neck. "Poor jealous thing. Don't worry, Samara, you are Master's favorite. Hush, sweetheart, Master has you."

She lay against him and enjoyed Raff caressing her as he released the last of the braid. "But...Master, it is daylight!"

Raff laughed at the scandalized slaves. "Samara is with me, she isn't in public, is she? I'll have one of you come and braid her hair to regulation before dinnertime. Not you, Zuli. I want her to have hair left on her head, you vindictive little vixen. Either Freya or Vern can do it. Now go tell Piggy to get me some coffee."

He didn't miss the glares of the slaves at Samara. Nor did he miss her triumphant look back.

"You know, one of the reasons I never took a slave to keep here...too dramatic. You aren't going to turn dramatic on me, are you, sweet little girl?" Samara heard the clear threat and cowered, groveled, licking her Master's hand and shaking her head.

 

 


	115. Digging Out Of Graves

It took Joss no time at all to start taunting Piggy.

Small things at first.

Pressing up against him, brushing against him, whispering threats of what he wanted to do, even biting the back of Piggy's neck. Others were around, it was still daylight, Joss couldn't go too far, Piggy reminded himself of that, rattled as hell.

Samara rarely left Raff's side unless ordered too.

When ordered to she would do her chores in a cloud.

In spite of her raging jealousy, Samara was more content than Piggy's seen her in quite some time.  Floating about, slightly smiling to herself and teasing Piggy in a very light hearted way over little things. He couldn't crush that by telling Samara how scared he was of Joss, that he had no idea what to do.

Brat was either in meetings with Gregor, plotting, mapping and doing things that Piggy had no part in.

She trained too and Piggy has no reason to enter the training room. The pets had not started their training yet, though Piggy honestly was excited about it. He assumed they would work with Brat, after all the others were wounded except Gregor who has way bigger things to do.

Brat has the least amount of experience in the field but training slaves she could do with ease. 

When Brat or Samara were around and Joss got too much, either Samara would growl or Brat would actually intervene.

Gregor appeared for lunch and he waved away the extra setting for Waif.

"Put that away, Piggy. Our extra guest has left. Waif is going to see some other folks that even Polliver cannot reach."

Since Polliver was away but Raff was there, Piggy simply stood near him as he would have for his Master.

This became a problem fast.

Samara was kneeling next to Raff, clinging to his leg. The house slaves were serving all but they were hovering around Aerys son. Every time Raff wanted something it became an elegant stampede.

If Raff pointed towards his coffee cup several things happened at once.

Piggy came forward and Samara rose as three slaves seemed to fly to stampede over Samara. Piggy would reach through the spinning wheel of eager arms and snatch the coffee. Samara would claw her way up to reach for the sugar, Zuli would snatch the cream and somehow coffee made it to Raff.

This amused the living shit out of Raff and Joss.

Brat and Gregor just didn't understand this at all.

Raff and Joss started to play, the slaves all locked into the challenge among themselves now.  Joss decided to take advantage of the game. "Uh, Piggy, is Raff your Master?"

Piggy paled as Joss spoke and shook his head. "No. But when Raff was sick, my Master took care of Samara for him. So I though when Polliver was gone, it would be Raff that was in charge of me."

Laughing, Joss shook a finger at Piggy.

"Oh, you cute little summer child.  Everyone here that isn't a slave is in charge of you. I suppose it makes sense that Raff would be responsible for your well being. But I feel you are just being lazy by staying right there next to Raff. Thinking that way you only have to serve one person like normal. You just don't want the extra work of serving others. Maybe you think we aren't worthy of your services?"

Piggy flushed and wished to hell he could tell Joss to go fuck himself. "No, Joss. I swear I never thought any of that. Besides Polliver, the ones here I know the best are Brat and Raff. Brat doesn't wish to be served by me and Raff is Polliver's best friend, I trust him to protect me."

"Oh, I see. You only work for those you trust or are comfortable with. Wow. Hey ladies? And you, the exotic little guy, your attention for one second please." Joss turned and looked at the house slaves, who all cringed slightly. They have all been treated to Joss's attentions and none came out wishing to do anything else in the world rather than suffer him again.

"Did you hear that? This slave gets to pick and choose whom to serve when his Master is away. He only serves those he is safe and comfortable with. Do any of you have this option? Even as, say a reward from your Master? Oh geez, Piggy, they are shaking their heads no. Well, wait. What about any other slaves you know? Ones that are really spoiled and pampered? Do they get to choose who to serve? No? Piggy, you are the luckiest slave on the planet! Holy shit!"

Joss was almost as good at bullying as Polliver but he was much better at inciting emotions. Piggy almost stuck a fork into the man's eye as the other slaves started to narrow their eyes at him. As if they needed one more reason to despise him.

Great, thanks so much, thought Piggy as he opened his mouth, knowing he was just digging himself further in a hole.

It was something he did so often that Polliver always would say, "Go ahead, open your mouth and keep digging yourself into that hole."

Piggy could actually hear Polliver saying that in his head.

"I'm very sorry, Joss. I didn't mean I could choose, I meant...I.."

He sighed and shut his mouth, seeing both Gregor and Brat shaking their heads at his stupidity. Even Samara was sublty tugging on his pants from her kneeling position in warning.

"Please forgive me, Joss. I will serve everyone equally if you wish it. I will obey everyone who isn't a slave, just as you said." He lowered his head more.

Joss got a large grin but before he could open his mouth, Gregor said gruffly, "Glad to hear it, boy. Now get me more coffee, get some for Brat too." Piggy took the mercy and nearly leaped the length of the table to serve them.

 Joss and Raff would ask for something at the same time and watch the slaves go crazy. To not serve Joss was a slight that the dangerous man would make them pay for dearly. To not serve Raff meant to not win, at least in the mind of the slaves. 

Piggy usually ended up serving Joss, not daring to cross him after that confrontation.

However, when all the slaves nearly killed each other to serve Raff, Joss took offense. He stared icily at the three cringing house slaves then spoke so slowly as if to small kittens and that scared even Samara. She wrapped around Raff's leg like a vine and whimpered softly when her Master's hand came down to stroke her hair.

Joss grabbed Piggy who was nearby and pulled him closer. Then thrust him forward to his knees and Raff snapped, causing the three house slaves to fall their own knees fast. Leaning forward, Joss explained his upset.

"Now, I am feeling hurt. Samara has an excuse for serving no one but Raff. But right after I gave that lecture to Piggy about only serving one person, you go and do the same thing? Makes me feel invisible, worthless. I don't like feeling that way, do you, Raff?"

Joss had an exaggerated look of hurt on his face. Raff grinned and shook his head.

"No, Joss, I do not like feeling that way. And to have slaves make you feel like that? I know my family trains slaves to make us feel pleasure, but to train slaves to make you feel bad? Slaves that can pick and choose as they will? I must speak to my father about his new training techniques."

The house slaves looked crestfallen.

Joss gave them a benevolent smile while he started to pat Piggy's head. Piggy stayed still and calm but he trembled and knew Joss felt it, enjoyed it.

"I am a kind and understanding man though. I am going to give you all another chance!"

He announced that as if he were Oprah giving away a car.

"Now, from this point on, we all understand that you serve ALL of us, not just your favorites, right? So we don't hurt the feelings of you betters."

He spoke like he was talking to a preschool class and the slaves all had to nod like little puppets.

Piggy and Samara got some small satisfaction from seeing the perfect house slaves be the ones to recieve and swallow bullshit. The game went onward and after the second time Samara was truly stomped upon by accidentally on purpose, Raff pulled her out of it. He put her on his lap and told her to snuggle and rest.

Samara took it as a win and contentedly cuddled into her Master while silently rooting for Piggy.

"Sorry to interrupt your fun, boys but we have to get some work done. Even the two of you idiots can only drink so much coffee. Let them go get their own work down. Raff, since you aren't able to do much walking yet, you can use your voice. I have a list of folks I want you to call, do the same as Waif and Polliver. Find out who would be willing to join our army. You are seeing your father today for tea, correct? I want you to make sure we are still safe here for another week or two. It's your father, he is harder for you to work with, I get that. But remember who you are to us. You are part of our family, he is your past. Be respectful, but do not let him rattle you."

Raff nodded pensively then he stroked Samara as if to calm himself. "Yes, Sir."

Gregor turned to look at Brat.

"You are the only one here healed enough to train the pets. I want them to be able to do everything from pick locks to plant bombs. I want them able to do basic hand to hand combat. They need a reasonable knowledge of the weapons we use. Teach them everything you think they can learn." Brat nodded and smiled at Piggy.   

Gregor stood up and stretched then fixed his suit. Another four suits had been delivered and Gregor was brilliant today in a shark grey silk suit with a ocean blue shirt. His head shone in the light and his cuff links and rings gave off painful bright rays of light when he moved.

"Joss, you are with me today. Get ready to train in negotiations in a whole new way, without violence. It will be a change for you."

Joss chuckled and stood up.

"Yes Sir. After all, I need to learn all the ropes to be leader someday."

He gave Raff and Brat a gloating look which fell off his face when Gregor stared at him, shaking his head.

"I'm sorry if I gave you the impression you would take over someday, Joss but that isn't going to happen. However as I build, I will leave you to run sections on your own as you did before. As I rise, so do you."

Gregor looked over at Brat.

"Brat is my daughter. She will inherent what I build and someday lead this family. I want her with me to watch and learn. I am training her personally to make her worthy of running my empire once it is built."

Joss nodded and with great difficulty, replied, "Yes Sir."

He seethed internally. How dare this bitch come into their lives and steal their leader and his fortune? Not even by seduction but simply because of her fucking name. How dare that cunt steal Joss's dreams of Gregor passing the torch someday onto him. He ran the whole fucking operation in the South, what has Brat done?

 

Jaime stared at his inflamed stump and cursed.

Those fuckers not only won't allow him to use his golden hand, they won't let him even keep a damned cap on the stump.

Kevan said the hand was lost due to Jaime being a vain sinner and that the gods would want to show it to the world. Otherwise why else would he have been punished by the gods in such a way if not to show as an example of what happens to sinners?

Fucking lunatics. Jaime told them they were sinners as well and where were the punishments for that? The response was instant and irritating.

Each of them showed him their scars from their time at the reformatory or academy in the South they had repented in. The one that shocked him the most was that huge blonde bitch, Breinne.

With a stoic face, she removed her many layers, her clothing was worn more as armor than cloth. Without any change in her expression, she removed everything but a navy blue tank top and matching boxers.

None of the "teachers" jeered at Brienne nor made any sexual jokes or looks at all. Jamie stared at the deep scars he saw all over her. He could tell her arm has been broken, so had her ankles at some point. Her back was a crisscross of grooves from a whip.

Jaime looked at her face then and asked politely, "And did that make you no longer sin? What bad thing did you have to do to recieve a broken bone? Three of them? Were you a brothel worker or something? Maybe a drug mule! Gods know, you look like you could fit a shitload of H filled condoms in your-"

She broke his nose before he could finish.

This wasn't a holy place though, it was a place of horror and Jaime could attest to that.

Late at night, he could hear Tommen and Loras scream, plead and then grunting, taunting and Jaime covered his ears tightly. They never came to visit Jaime late at night and it confirmed to him what the noise was.

The three were given dorms next to each other. It was laughable that they were called dorms when Jaime never saw anything look more like a cell. The door only locked from the outside of the thick wood. They were small rooms with a small barred window.

A cheap bed with threadbare blankets, no pillows of course. A small wooden desk and chair to use, the only items on the desk were pamphlets and other propaganda from Kevan. Tiny wastebasket and a closet with no door. One dresser with three drawers.   

The dresser was already full of their new clothing. Cheap rayon material that made Jaime and the others get rashes until their skin got used to the material. Boxers, socks, sweatpants and sweatshirt or t shirt, that was the one fashion choice they could make, long sleeve or no. Jaime laughed as himself as he staggered forward under Karl's riding crop.

"I want these weeds pulled before lunchtime." Karl ordered, sneering at the two cowering boys and Jaime. It took everything for Jaime to keep his eyes low and just mindlessly obey. But he did, he knelt within the overgrown garden on the side of the building. Between the high wall and the reformatory were weeds and plants tall enough in some spots to reach the window.

"Pull all the weeds out. After your lunch, you will recieve clippers to bring that grass down just like you did in the garden." They all nodded while mentally groaning. By the time they finish clipping the fucking grass by hand, it will be dinner. After dinner is an hour of being on their knees while one of their tormenters reads Kevan's fucking bible to them.

After physically exertion days like this, it will be hard to stay awake in a candlelit place with a boring voice saying boring things. But it isn't just a reader with them, it is all of them except Kevan. The others who aren't reading are holding sticks and are happy to inflict it upon a sleepy head.

They began to pull weeds and Karl walked away to use his phone where Kevan wouldn't normally look. As they pulled the weeds, Jamie looked over at the two.

Tommen looked like a fucking ghost, he looked doomed and near death. He was so pale as to almost transparent, whatever spark lit him was gone, it was out. He was like a puppet, he looked down, did as he was told. He suffered beautifully for the sadistic men that are curing homosexuality with brutal rape.

Loras didn't look much better. He had dark circles under his eyes, he trembled like a wet dog, stuttered when he spoke now. Jaime remembers the boy always looking perfect. Not anymore. The uncut, curly hair sprung everywhere and Loras never moved it from his face anymore, as if he wanted to hide under it if he could. He twitched and muttered to himself a lot. Loras obeyed and also suffered the terrible late night atonement sessions.

Jaime pulled weeds along side them  and they didn't speak much. What was there to say?

Karl was texting and then he seemed very intent on whomever was speaking with him. He started to leer and speak in a lower voice.

"Oh gods, that sadistic fuck is sexting. If I have to watch him whip it out and jerks off, I'll strangle myself with these fucking weeds."

Loras gave a smothered laugh but Tommen only whispered, "Don't make fun like that. What if they hear you? We could all get in trouble for that."

Loras gave Tommen a small gentle nudge with his shoulder.

"N n..no one will get you in t..t..trouble, I promise. He can't hear us and he wouldn't even if we were d..d..dan..dancing on his damned head. He is so c..c..caught up....in whoever a..act..act..actually likes him...he must use another p..p..person's p..p..profile pic."

They all stifled a little laughter at at that one and watched from the corner of their eyes as Karl started to head into a little shed nearby. They continued to pull weeds and lightly make jokes about the teachers and their leader.

Then someone was jumping INTO the school grounds and Jaime wanted to scream, "WHY THE LIVING FUCK WOULD  YOU COME INSIDE THE WALL THE REST OF US WANT OUT OF?"

Waif dusted herself off, covered in camouflage gear.

"Hey, boys. Sick of this place yet?"

 

Olenna stood in front of her bay window and looked down onto the elegant gardens, not a single weed in sight to her sharp eyes.

Her stance was as proud and rigid as ever. Her eyes told another story.

"I have no quarrel with Gregor or any of you. You were only doing what you were ordered to do. The Mountain's men didn't kill my granddaughter, instead you killed the woman responsible for it. Then you returned my grandson to me. I am not interested in fighting with you."

Polliver sipped his tea and said nothing, just waited. Raff had coached him well for this, he was ready. He hoped.

"You must understand, I hadn't a clue about some of these disturbing things. I had no idea that Varys was molesting the boy or I would have had him castrated and forced Tommen home to Tywin. I had no idea what Kevan would do to Loras. My brilliant boy, they won't let me see him. He writes worthless letters to me full of cold words that are not like him at all. I have heard rumors..gossip and stories about terrible things. They have more students and workers now so there are more wagging tongues."

Olenna came to pick up her teacup and then she returned to the window to drink it.

As if she couldn't speak of these things while looking at Polliver. The woman was clearly affected by all this as she is not the type to not stare someone into the ground. That gave Polliver the spark of hope he needed, there was a crack and he can exploit it.

"Loras is considered one of the original three students. They are referred to as the "Three" as if they were legend, how silly. But there it is. The original three are not with the other students unsupervised. Stories of the three might be legend but it isn't a good one. Stories of brutal rapes by three particularly cruel teachers on Tommen and Loras. I hear the three are worked nearly to death some days I hear how the one handed man gets severe beatings by a woman to atone for his sins. It will take more than a few beatings and hard work to fix that man and it certainly won't be at that reformatory that Jaime ever atones."

Staying silent, waiting it out, Polliver sipped at the overly sweet tea, thinking of the taste of Piggy's coffee. 

Olenna turned and looked at him.

"I wrote and called Kevan, asking to visit, then demanding. He told me it was too soon in Loras's recovery for him to see anyone. It would be too much as Loras is fragile right now. Well, yes, hard to not be fragile when you are being buggered all night and treated like a work horse all day. I went to the reformatory myself and demanded Loras be released to me. I wanted to pull him out of the school and that should have been that. Kevan let me in to his own tasteless office and told me that similar to being in jail or a true rehabilitation center, that Loras cannot leave until they are sure he won't relapse. That he won't be a danger to himself or others."

Olenna sat down and put her tea cup down on the table softly.

"No amount of threats or bribes worked. In fact, Kevan told me he worried for my soul, that I might wish to consider my own sins. He gave me a list of all his damned centers in the South as if I didn't already know of them. I left and have not gone back to the North since."

Polliver spoke carefully, mildly.

"They have not just taken over all of the North, they are trying to take all of the South. You own half of it still, but Kevan is coming for it. And he will never release your grandson. Given the treatment he is receiving he is either going to commit suicide or  turn into a feverishly lunatic disciple for Kevan to use. And of course, Loras makes a lovely hostage for your continued behavior. As Kevan takes over the South inch by inch from you, dangling your tortured grandson before you. And Jaime will never escape, he won't dare, not as long as Kevan has Tommen to keep Jaime in line. So the last of the Lannisters that could have assisted, could have resisted, is gone. Kevan has almost all the great houses in the North destroyed. More than half of the Southern houses are indebted, blackmailed, afraid of or have joined Kevan Lannister's crusade. Or have lost land, companies and more to him. There is no one left to align with and you are the last of your line now unless Loras is freed of that place."

It took one hour before Olenna reluctantly admitted she was fucked and needed help to retrieve her grandson and keep her own land from being taken away.

 

 


	116. When Playing With Broken Things Watch For Sharp Edges

Brat laughed and Samara snickered.

"How the fuck did you ever survive that attack? How did you kill all those clowns? I just murdered you for the tenth time in a row!"

Piggy glared defensively at them.

"Most of them I think I just badly wounded, Samara did most of the actual killing. And you know, a mother who can't lift her own shopping bags can lift a fucking car if there kid is under it. Stress makes folks do funny things. I have a built in defense system. I know when to cower and when to run and when to attack. If it weren't for my mouth running without limits, I'd be the perfect politician!" He stuck his chin up and crossed his arms.

"Okay, well maybe we should do defensive techniques with you instead. Let's try that out."

Turned out learning to hide, blend in, evasion and Piggy took easily to keep others from hurting him.

Samara took to offensive fighting with a savage delight. She was good with blades and guns. Not only did Samara manage to flip both of them, she stole Brat's cellphone while doing it.

When they worked on bombs, Samara blew herself up nine times out of ten. She had no patience to dismantle or create a bomb. Placing them was more her style. However Piggy didn't blow himself up once and he created them faster than Brat could.

Exercise made Piggy complain and whine as if he were dying and weight lifting made Samara sob with pain from her abused swollen joints. Brat switched them and Piggy easily worked the weights while Samara did easy stretches then took off running around the path like a freed wild thing.

All in all, Brat considered it a win for their first day of training.

"You know, whether or not you are a slave, you have become part of the Family just like me." Brat grinned at Piggy as she handed him a water bottle.

He took a long swallow then said, "I know that, Samara does too. It's not the collars that keep us from running. We have had so many chances to run, you know that. We never did, never even tried or made plans to. Not once. We are fucked up, as fucked up as they are. Best to stick with your own, right?"  

 

Kevan was brilliant in his pure white suit as he stood at the pulpit.

He smiled benevolently down upon his students, his disciples and his new staff. Some of the students that were converted were hurried down from the South to handle the amount of new students here and new charges at the adult reformatory building.

Usually he allowed the staff to run their chapel sessions, but today's was a very special one.

Flowers from the gardens have been put into pretty vases and put on the stage to liven it up. It was a momentous day and Kevan wanted all to witness it. The infamous three were brought forward to kneel before Kevan.

"All should see the example before you today." Kevan said to all assembled, mainly to the students.

"Here before you are three sinners that have repented, they have atoned and wish to recieve the mercy and better purpose in life that I offer. Each of them shall tell you their sins and then they shall indeed recieve a hand towards full salvation."

Jaime watched dully as both Loras admitted his addiction to drugs and homosexuality. Loras told how he had hustled himself to get more drugs. He spoke of using his family's money without a care in the world and of being a bad son, bad relative, bad friend, terrible, awful, blah, blah and Jaime wanted to scream.

He hoped to hell that Waif knew what she was doing.

Jaime had to hope that everything she said was true and that Gregor was willing to still assist a Lannister. Loras believed right away that his grandmother was sending someone for him and Tommen didn't seem to care. He had just nodded, done and said what they told him to.

_"Kevan fixed the factories and companies back alright. Those who belong to one of his chapels receives a fair wage and job. Those who don't...riots have ensued and Kevan's men left at least ten of them dead when it ended. The great houses are over in the North, half the South belongs to the man and he is creeping his way into the Riverlands. We need you on the outside. Only you can use your family's money and power. You and Tommen are the last of your house, you cannot be in here. Olenna is willing to assist us in taking down Kevan. I know you will hate this, but in order for us to extract you, you need to confess. You have to make them believe you have atoned and wish to be disciples. Your freedom grows with each compliance and then we can reach you to pull you out. I can't yank you all over this wall."_

Jaime watched as Kevan made sure Loras said every humiliating and degrading thing before granting him mercy. Mercy came as a red hot brand, at least that wasn't a shocker to him.

Each of their tormentors bore this brand, not that it made the pain of it any easier as it melted into Loras's delicate skin. Tommen flinched and Jaime raised his chin while Loras screamed then fell to the floor sobbing when the men who held him up let him go.

Tommen was next and it truly enraged Jaime to have to hear the boy recite sins that weren't really his.

He took the blame for his own grooming and molestation from an adult man.  Then Kevan had him accept the blame for a rich sinful family he hasn't done anything but be born into.

However Tommen took all the blame the man wanted.

His face pale, his words so dull and unfeeling, his eyes far away.

Kevan was far kinder to Tommen than Loras. After Tommen was branded and threw up, he his mouth was wiped by Kevan himself, who then gave Tommen permission to return to his room.

Loras had vomited too, but Meryn just kicked him and made him clean it up with a rag.

Jaime knelt before all of them and it took every inch of him to lay his sins before others for examination.

Luckily, he didn't give a shit about his sins enough for any shame over them to bother him.

What did bother him immensely was his pride and ego, they were taking the beating. He would rather fight and be beaten down than have to look at his fucking uncle's smug expression one more second.

He told them of sleeping with his sister.

Of so many other sins that others were starting to fidget that he had so many. They were all getting tired of standing as still as Jaime had to kneel. With a vindictive joy, Jaime listed every single vile sin he could remember. Only Jaime and Kevan were enjoying themselves now as they locked eyes and Jaime kept speaking.

However both Jaime and Kevan's vindictive joy was ended when they suddenly saw Tommen hurtle past the window and hit the stones below.

 

The house slaves made sure the tea room was perfect then they made sure that Raff was perfect.

The treatment that they gave to Raff's hygiene and clothing would have put Waif's own ministrations to shame. Once Raff was ready, he scandalized the slaves by his next actions. He waited until Samara came back all hot and sweaty from her training and he ordered them to bathe and groom her as well.

The look on Zuli's face made Raff laugh.

"Do you expect me to get all wet and grimy cleaning her after you dressed me up so well? She cannot meet my father like that now can she?" Raff teased as the others begrudgingly stared at the growling Samara, slowly approaching her.

"Master, she is going to bite us, she is a little rabid beast. You cannot think to bring such a..a..girl like that before your father?"

Zuli was smiling and Raff smiled back.

"Sweet Zuli...you have become so protective of me...of my father. But I do plan to bring her before my father and Samara would be less inclined to bite you if you didn't call her things like a rabid little beast. Now I want her bathed, nails done, make up and hair. Find one of your best outfits for her to borrow too. My father cannot be seeing my personal pet in a regular work sweatsuit, can he?"

Raff cooed sweetly and he flicked Zuli's nose.

It wasn't more than a moment into the bath that Raff heard chaos from the bathing area.

He went in to find Samara growling, standing naked in the tub, blood dripping from a deep cut in her leg. The three house slaves were yelling and Zuli was the one holding the razor, also now sporting some blood of her own from a bite to her neck.

"She tried to kill me! To bite my throat apart, Master!" Zuli screamed tearfully and Raff sighed.

"Was it before or after you had the razor in your hand? Did you tell her you were going to shave her or just brandish the blade hoping to scare her? And sweetheart you are being dramatic again, if Samara wanted to rip out your throat, you would be dead by now. That was a warning, which tells me you threatened her. Do not tell me that she started it because my little girl wouldn't dare risk upsetting me that way. She knows how much I hate the drama. Don't you, Samara?"

Instantly, Samara stopped growling and nodded, kneeling into the tub, the blood swirling about her legs and tainting the whole tub.

"Did you finish cleaning her? Then move on and forget the shaving, I'll take care of it myself."

The slaves gasped that a Master would do such a thing as grooming a slave when others could do if for him.

"Zuli, go clean yourself up then bring that outfit for Samara. One of you bandage Samara's leg."

The looks of the other slaves told Samara that worse was to come later but Raff didn't seem worried. He knew these slaves and if he wasn't worried about them, Samara wouldn't worry either.

At least that is what Raff thought and Samara thought he was so very wrong not to worry.

Yet Samara wouldn't ever, ever dare contradict Raff.

He had been away too long and he was too different now. It worried Zuli and the others very much.

Not the pitting of slaves against each other, no, that was always Raff's way but allowing Samara so many things, to be so different. And he himself, he acted and spoke a whole new way and he was clearly rejecting his own culture for this strange offensive one with these barbarians.

Already word has reached his father about how upset all the house slaves had become over Samara as well as the others.

Villagers only got to throw items and insults at Piggy but they gave as much hostility as they could to the others. Aerys has been flooded with complaints from both slaves and villagers.

Aerys strode into his guest home an hour later with an entourage. The house slaves were there, judging by their eyes alone things were not going well for them.

Aerys sighed and headed to the tea room, hoping to make his son see some sense. 

 

Piggy was alone and taking advantage of it.

He turned on the music app on the phone Polliver gave him the other week. An old one of Polliver's that had been stripped down to being able to play two games, hear music and text any member of the crew. He was spinning and shimmying around the kitchen, earbuds firmly in his ears.

He sang front and back vocals as he washed dishes, played air guitar while he swept and then started chopping vegetables to the beat on the wooden cutting board. A hand came from behind and forced his knife to rest upon his fingers instead of the carrot.

Piggy yelped in fear but could hear nothing but his music until someone used their teeth to pull out the earbud. 

Joss's voice was soft and serpentine in Piggy's ear, clashing horribly with the happy music still blaring in his other ear. 

"Hush, don't squeal yet, Piggy. We haven't done anything to warrant squealing yet, little piglet. You know that old game? Why are you hitting yourself? This one is called, Why are you cutting yourself? Want to play, Piggy?"

Piggy shuddered.

"Please, not my hands, not my fingers, Joss. I..I am a chef...I need to cook and I have to have my hands for it...please? I..can I play another game? I can pick one for us? I know I can't run forever from you...I know you'll just make it worse if I do. I got it, okay? Please, Joss? Just not my hands?"

"Such a little cowardly thing, aren't you? No matter how much they train you, it won't matter. Folks like me and Tickler, folks like Polliver and Raff, everywhere you go, there is someone just like us. They would smell you coming, you know. You were luckier than most would be that are just like you. Imagine if I had found you before Polliver, or Tickler? Holy shit, what if Ramsay Bolton had run into you?"

Joss laughed as he moved the knife just over Piggy's fingers.

Piggy felt his face grow red, the tears fall and he didn't care, he cared about his fingers, his hands.

"I..I did run into Ramsay Bolton. Lots of times and it was always very bad for me. We went to the same schools. He was older but he liked to bully the younger classes. And I was a fat child and that was all it took for Ramsay to come after me. I ate frozen dog shit at his request to save myself a beating from his fucking goons. I ran messages, I stole things from kids, the school and stores for him. If I got caught, I never told who made me do it. Not once. It sucked. I supplied test answers and hacked a computer just to adjust the grades of Ramsay and his pack. I saw what Ramsay did with his knife to other kids who tried to defy him. I saw the kids that ended up with broken bodies for trying to tell on Ramsay and his pack. I knew all about the hunts. He forced me on one once when I wasn't able to produce the test answers he wanted. He let his boys throw rocks at me and he shot arrows at me. Bastard let his dogs bite me in seven fucking places. They dumped me in front of the hospital with a warning. I got several stitches and had to lie. Next day the new wolf hybrids that the Starks had saved were put down. I felt fucking awful about it. Ramsay thought it was fricking hysterical. When Ramsay and his boys graduated no one celebrated more than myself and every kid who was victimized by him. There were so many of us and we never even spoke of why we were all crying and getting drunk that night. But it was because we were finally free of the biggest fucking most dangerous bully we'd ever known. One kid my class had died from Ramsay's target practice with his first gun. I was lucky, I steered far from Ramsay when he left school and never had trouble with him again."

The babbling worked it's magic as Piggy had hoped. Indeed does the truth set you free.

Joss was amused enough by the story to release Piggy's hand with a simple whack to the cutting board to make the boy release the paring knife.

"Good Piglet. No weapons for you right now, none needed with me. Right? Now...since I enjoyed that story we can play a different game. It's one that I think is actually overly fair on my part. Let's go outside. There is a gated, secret part in the garden that leads to a maze. That is where we shall play our game. I can lock the gate so we have complete privacy, isn't that nice?"

 

Aerys found Viserys already sitting in a chair in the tea room.

His son still looked too thin, paler than ever but Viserys was sitting up and hiding his bandages under a casual suit.

On the floor, kneeling gracefully, her head lovingly rubbing against her Master's knee was the rabid little pet. Her face was given make up finally and her hair was in two long braids threaded with silk ribbon that matched her short flowing dress.

The girl was wearing Zuli's best dress, the one that Aeyrs himself gifted the girl. 

He found rage rush to his head.

Not only was his son stupid enough to encourage the jealousy war but to force Zuli to give away something Aerys had personally given the girl? Is Viserys trying to cause a slave riot? Was he trying to get his rabid bitch to kill the house slaves?

Aeyrs pushed the anger and confusion down.

"You are looking much better, son. I was quite concerned for you."

Aeyrs leaned down to give his son a brief hug and felt it weakly returned.

"I do hope you have a lot of physical therapy lined up, Vis. Feels like you will need it to get back to full strength. I understand that losing a spleen takes a good amount of recovery time. I am so glad you are here where I can help you get through this. And judging by some things I am hearing, you certainly do need my support...and my counsel."

Raff gave his father a brilliant smile as the man sat down and Raff thought, Now the games begin. 


	117. Game Time

Joss kept his fist firmly in Piggy's collar as they walked, as if he thought Piggy might bolt.

Piggy wished Joss would let go because he indeed was tempted to bolt. If he could make it to another member of the crew or if he could make it to Polliver's room, he could lock the door against him.  

Trying to keep up with Joss's long legs and trying not to strangle in the tight hold, Piggy was nearly dragged to the private maze within the garden. Joss brandished a key then unlocked the high ornate gate, nearly hidden behind some vines.

After shoving Piggy inside the maze so the boy fell onto the small sharp covered stones, Joss stepped inside then locked the gate behind him.

Joss gave a shark smile and Piggy knew he was chum in the water.

 

The house slaves all hovered to serve Aerys, Zuli in the lead.

Only Samara served Raff and she did it as silently and almost as gracefully as the others. At no point did she not keep her body in such a way that let all know she was guarding him. When Aeyrs had approached and leaned over to hug Viserys, he expected the girl to growl the way her eyes narrowed on him.

However, when he moved to embrace his son, Samara dropped to the rug, forehead to the ground without any prompting from Raff. Clever of her, giving him the begrudging respect while looking so humble for Raff.

Aerys saw the girl was not as out of reality as he thought. Instead, he saw she was clever in her madness and that scared him worse. It was time that something was said or done about many things today and this would have to be one of them.    

 

Waif crept through the air ducts until she came to a small vent just above an old rotting library room. She quickly dropped down and began to glide through ancient judicial junk, making sure there were no traps, no bugs, no others waiting to kill her or arrest her at least.

After a small bit there were sounds of someone entering the room. Waif surveyed the tired, greying man who was looking around the room as if expecting to see someone. As he started to walk under the beam she was sitting on she spoke to watch him jump.

"Do you feel in any way guilty for the part you played in all of this? You tried to tell yourself that it was really all for justice, I bet. Giving in to Lannisters, Starks, Freys, anyone who could help you and the family you were ashamed of? Did things ever get better for your wife with all those extra therapists and plushy institutions? All plastic surgeons and dermatologists by the expensive score circled around your imperfect daughter, did it help? Did you ever wonder who it was that made that attempt to kidnap your daughter? Well, one of the times, it was one of mine that tried for her. She was going to bring her to me, I would have gladly accepted the gift of her. Shireen would have made a very clever, silent killer. I bet she would have taken well to creating and using all sorts of interesting poisons."

Waif landed in front of His Honor Stannis Baratheon.

He did not flinch, though his eyes were filled with a certain kind of special misery. A misery of one who has blinded himself to his own truths for so long and suddenly saw it all etched out in blood.

"Better I had taken her than where she is now. You let Kevan have your wife and that I do understand. I was always waiting to hear there was a hit out on her, but Shireen? I never thought you'd sacrifice your own daughter to Kevan. You do know what he is doing to them, don't you? He is helping them get rid of their demons. Do you know how it is going? Hmm? I do. Here, take a look, Your Honor."

Waif threw a bunch of enlarged full color photos onto the dusty, mouse shit ridden floor.

Stannis fought himself to not look.

Waif watched knowing how this always goes with these prideful assholes.

After a moment, Stannis took two determined steps towards the door, muttering, "Why did I tell Davos I would meet with you?"

He stopped and turned to stare down at the photos. They were in full clear color, though sometimes blurred due to movement. It wasn't as if Waif could have asked the women to stay still.

"It is Kevan's form of an exorcism. He believes that your demons of sinful pride have infected them. Kevan prays and the others beat the crazy devil out of Lysa. As you can see, this is Shireen in her fourth hour of ice tub therapy. Nice, huh? Oh yeah, she has lost a toe already plus two fingernails in her cold treatments. Then an hour with the isolation chamber while Kevan's voice is piped in. Gee, I wonder what they are training her for? Because in my experience, and trust me, I DO know more than you in brainwashing...they are training her. I have to ask myself, is this how they make their favored, best disciples? You should worry about that, if not about your actual daughter, you cold hearted travesty of justice."

Stannis glared stonily at Waif but he knew when he had to fight for the right thing. There had to be a way to fix things, stop Kevan, get his family back alive. "What does Gregor need?"

 

Piggy's feet were shredded to ribbons on the small sharp stones. His throat and tongue were dry as ash, he tried to lick up his tears for moisture. The game was simple but not in the least easy.

_"It's called Catch and Release." Joss explained happily, as Piggy had kept backing away slowly. You get to run and hide, I'll hunt you down and find you. When I do you have to do something amusing enough for me to release you. If you can't amuse me, instead of releasing you, I'll do something to amuse myself."_

Luckily, Joss had also said that Piggy's story had amused him.

So every time Joss found him, Piggy would tell him a story. Joss liked hearing each of the stories of the Tickler abusing him. He also enjoyed some of the stories about Ramsay's boys and some other very humiliating memories.

A time when a gym teacher got so fed up with Piggy that he himself bared Piggy's body to a boys locker room and spanked the boy's swaying chest while the boys all chanted, "Boy Boobs!"

That one made Joss laugh his ass off and he kept asking Piggy how certain things made him feel, what was the worst of his embarrassments in school, until Piggy was sobbing. Piggy told him of girls taunting him, pretending to like him to get him to do and say embarrassing things.

A certain prom night that Piggy was drunk,following a girl, a popular one, not aware it was yet another last high school prank.

She got him drunk and naked. Slowly the girl pretended to undress until he had passed out. Then she not only took pictures but first she wrote all over him in marker. The words were ugly and the pictures on all that fat flesh were passed around as much as they girl could on their actual graduation day.

Piggy had considered suicide during that time.

Finally, Piggy was caught and without a story.

He tried to tell the ones with Polliver to Joss but the man yawned.

"Try another story or admit defeat. By the way, before you think to lie or over exaggerate a story, I can tell the difference. If you do, I'm going to punish you by shoving a ton of these sharp little rocks up your ass which I will then shove a but plug into and then making you keep them there until I feel like removing them. They wouldn't cause enough damage for stitches, but all those little tiny cuts? Maybe I'll give you a lemon water enema afterwards."

Piggy cringed and shook his head. "No, don't! My feet are cut to shit already. I..there is one Polliver story where he tried to bury me alive!" Joss rolled his eyes. "I spoke with Dusten and Tickler a lot...they both told me funny stories about you and your Master. Most of them involved him trying to bury you alive or making you act like a snorting, snuffling beast. I don't want to hear repeats, only originals, boy. Do you have another story?"

Whimpering, Piggy shook his head in defeat. He had thought of trying to embellish or lie anyway, but knew it was a trap.

"Good boy! Since you were so honest and surrendered so well, I'll give you a little gift. I will allow you to choose another way to amuse me. You can choose any method of amusement you want. Sing, dance, grovel, suck my cock while crying and gagging, anything you wish. You get this one last chance before I choose the amusement. I'll give you till the count of five to decide."

Piggy's singing voice was terrible, he doubted any dance he could manage on the shifting rocks would be entertaining enough to warrant release. He knew that allowing Joss to pick the fun would result in terrible things, worse things than a blowjob. 

So Piggy let the sharp rocks dig deep into his knees, as he fell forward and scrambled to reach for the man's zipper before Joss could count past three.

"Very good idea, Piggy. I hope you have an amusing mouth, or a very entertaining one. Oh, and if you dare to lay a single tooth on me, I'll shatter your jaw like glass and take whatever punishment Polliver dishes out for it."

After Joss nearly choked him to death just before he came, Piggy was released to try and run to hide. Now Piggy was curled under a small curved statue as Joss's steps came closer and he knew he was doomed. He had no more stories or ideas and Joss would be bored by another blow job or a hand job. What was Piggy going to offer, a nice meal?

Cowering, he waited to be caught.

 

Aerys began to ask about Raff's health and they spoke politely for a few sips of herbal tea.

"Why were you coming to see me, father?" Raff asked politely as he reassuringly rubbed Samara's hair as she kept her head on his leg.

"I wanted to see if you would come help me with something. I was hoping that Gregor might see it as a family emergency and grant you some time off."

Raff laughed and drawled,

"Funny thing is this, Kevan Lannister had just spent a month or so trying to convince Gregor to release Dusten. It wouldn't have gone well, father. What is wrong? I am here and I see nothing wrong."

Aerys raised his brows and leaned slightly closer, his delicate fingers tracing the gold etching on the rim of his teacup. The long fingernails lightly scraped against the fragile, antique glass and it made a high pitched almost angry and intolerable sound.

"Really? You see nothing wrong or out of place here? Are you still feverish or just immune to your family and your people?" Aerys spoke very calmly but his eyes had a mild amber glow to them.

"At the very least how could you not have noticed your little sister missing? The one who always climbed all over you, hugging and lecturing you the whole time whenever you came home injured?"

Raff gave a tight lipped smile and his hand in Samara's hair started to pet heavier, pulling strands and Samara cringed, whimpering so softly.

"Yes Father, I did notice that Dany wasn't around. But being that my little sister is almost twenty I assumed she left to find a life. She isn't injured or dead or kidnapped or you would be much more upset. She isn't missing or you'd be out looking for her, scouring the entire world if need be. So what is it that my little spitfire sis is doing that makes you this upset? To come all the way to get me? Though, please accept my true heartfelt thanks for saving us and sheltering us. We are all grateful, none more than me."

The last words were said smoothly and Raff's hand was light and reassuring on his pet's hair now that he has regained his composure.

Aerys seemed to have some difficulty regaining his own composure and Raff took advantage of it.

Teasingly, he joked, "Good grief, father is it that bad? Is she married without consent? Unmarried and pregnant? Did she murder someone or join a cult?"

With a bitter and heavily disapproving tone, Aerys replied as if spitting out each word as if it had a sour taste.  

"She IS the cult leader and she had certainly been committing murder among other crimes."

Raff stared at his father then slowly spoke.

"Dany is a cult leader? Of a cult that is running about killing and going on crime sprees?" Raff knew his father had a flair for the dramatic but this was his best one yet. Raff smirked and asked lightly, "Well then, did you wish me to bail her out of jail when she gets there or just go and give her a brotherly pep talk? I mean...she is over eighteen now. If she isn't the follower of a cult but the leader then why should I be worried for her? Sounds like she found her niche."

Aerys did not appreciate his son's flair for sarcasm and humor, he never did like this side of Viserys.

"You do not understand and why should I expect you to? So far from home and now when you have come home, you bring chaos with you. How can you see anything beyond your new family? Beyond your new rabid little pet? Your sister has decided to go against tradition, where you have just run and blinded yourself to it. Dany is running a cult of former slaves to free other slaves. To abolish slavery. Your own sister is responsible for the death of many trainers, handlers and Masters in some of my best trading areas! These freed slaves call her Mother of all things and they worship her! They will do anything for her and she is doing more than destroying our traditions. She is putting herself up for assassination, Dany needs to be stopped before someone rises and kills her, Viserys! She won't hear a word I say, she always listened to you!"

Raff sipped his tea and then stared at his father pleasantly.

"No."

The word dropped like a stone and Aerys slightly tilted his head as if he heard his son wrong.

"No? You won't help me save your sister? You would be fine with allowing an angry mob of Masters rip your sister apart?"

"Dany isn't stupid, she would surround herself with those who would throw their bodies in front of her until Dany was the only one left alive. You always underestimated us, father. Her most of all. I am her older brother but I am also a successful slave trader and slave owner. What makes you think she'd listen to me? I will call her and caution her to safety."

Aerys began to tap on the table, one nail click after another and his eyes were on fire. His words came out as scalding lava.

"I came to rescue you and those meaningless brutes of yours! Yet you cannot be bothered to save your own sister? Shame on you, son."

"If Dany called me for help, I would fly to be there for her. She isn't asking for my help. You are. And I am not going to help you lock my sister in a gilded cage. Regardless of what it is she is doing, hell, if she were robbing fucking banks in Braavos, I still wouldn't kidnap her for you. She ran and chose a path, just like I did. I'm sorry, father, we love you but you cling too much and are a tad bossy about running our lives. Just a little though. Really."

Aerys narrowed his eyes.

"Fine. Let's turn to other subjects that need addressing. Such as your newfound family. They are not only causing us some minor trouble with the Martells that might soon become bigger, but they have disrupted our entire village, our estate, our entire reach! I have complaints, concerns and irate calls, texts and visits every five minutes since the Mountain and his crew landed here! These folks are not like us, they do not honor or understand the way things are here. They must go soon, son. I would prefer you let them go now and when you have recovered you can catch up with them."

Raff's hand stilled in Samara's hair and she stayed very, very still, this was never a good sign.

"And while I healed here I could have my lovely little pet attend me every second."

His voice was very soft now and Samara trembled harder.

Aerys was running his finger along the cup again, the nail making that dreadful shriek and his voice was pure silk and honey.

"I think we have more qualified slaves, ones that actually have medical experience that can attend you better, Viserys. Your pet could benefit from some more training which we can give. Or she could leave with the others if you'd rather. She is too dangerous to allow to wander unfettered, unleashed and without a muzzle. As always, you overdo things. I had offered so many times when you were younger to help you train your own personal slave and you always refused. You had to show me you could do it on your own. Congratulations, son. You did it. She is loyal, she loves you and kills for you, protects you and the first time you slip up on her invisible leash...she will rip out your throat. Or the day will come when her shattered mind just loses that last bit of control and sanity. She might slaughter how many before someone takes her down like a mad dog?"

Samara was shaking, whimpering and giving tiny submissive licks to Raff's hand. Tears streamed down her face as she tried to silently convey to her Master that she would never, ever do such things. Raff gestured with his other hand to her as he glared at his father.

Raff snickered then he grabbed a fistful of Samara's hair and roughly lifted her so her father could clearly see her face.

"Does this look like a frothing mad dog to you? If she was, she would have taken offense, Samara would be ready to rend out your throat. Instead she pleads silently for my mercy, to show what a good girl she is."

Raff stood up and let go of Samara's hair to snap his fingers. Instantly, the girl went to her hands and knees next to his boot, her eyes firmly on the rug, tears pattering down as she trembled like a nervous puppy.

"I think we are through here, father. I will make sure we are out of here as soon as possible. I will try and make sure that the others make no more trouble for you. Please spare me any more advice on my pet or my friends. Thank you again for helping us out."

He limped out of the room with Samara scurrying next to him.

   


Piggy winced as he sat gingerly in the bathtub and began to use the tweezers to pull bloody stones out from his feet, knees and hands. The ones he couldn't get he hoped the water would help release. As he lay in the tub, small stones and whirls of blood moved around him. As he looked up at the shower head, Piggy let out a ragged sob. 

That night he locked himself in Polliver's room and hid under the bed to sleep. Then he heard footsteps coming down the hall, so he crawled on sore hands and knees to the closet. Now that Raff was home, Samara slept with him.  Piggy huddled in the closet, listening to Joss try the door the call softly to Piggy.

Stifling sobs, Piggy squirmed into the bathroom and crawled into the bathtub, holding one of Polliver's razors. He woke up in the morning stiff and still holding the razor.  

   


   



	118. Dancing On Thin Ice

Piggy stirred lackadaisically at the home fries as Brat came into the sun drenched kitchen, following the smell of bacon. Brat found a rasher of bacon and began to steal some while sitting on the counter.

"You look like shit, man. You alright?"

He looked at her with sunken, deadened eyes.

"No. A nice long session with Joss in the locked maze and then the night with him trying to get into Polliver's room didn't do anything for my looks or sanity."

Piggy turned away to fill large silver trays full of eggs, home fries, bacon and pancakes for the others to carry into the dining room.

"I'm going to ask Raff's permission to skip the dining room and go lay down. I can't take a morning of Joss tormenting me on top of whatever he might do to me later. I need to at least take a small nap and pull myself together."

Piggy gave a last turn to make sure he had put everything where it should be.

He turned to put some dirty dishes into the sink and instead he leaned over the sink and threw up.

"Go to bed, Piggy. Please..I'm so sorry I wasn't here to keep you safe. Want me to call Polliver after I beat the living shit out of Joss?"

Brat rubbed her friend's back and felt guilty for not being there for him.

Shaking his head, Piggy wiped his mouth, then stood up and staggered towards the stairs.

"It wouldn't do any good. If you or Polliver beat on him, he'll just heal and find a way to pay me back for it. It wouldn't stop it. Nothing does. Just let it be, I want to sleep and think on things afterwards."

 

It was after he sat down at the dining room table, scanned the room and with disappointment noticed Piggy was missing, that Joss suddenly had his world dropped.

Brat and Raff were glaring at him, Samara, that little rabid bitch had a face full of hate that nearly scorched his eyebrows off. The house slaves seemed to have a new evil glee about them and that little stuck up Zuli actually smiled at him. Joss was stunned at that, the girl didn't enjoy his attentions at all when he took her before.

"What is it? What?" He asked as he drank his coffee, looking around at them all with raised eyebrows.

Raff sighed and Brat held her fork and knife as if they were weapons. Gregor remained interested only in his food and whomever he was texting with.

"Piggy isn't able to work very much today. He is ill, I can't imagine why. Clearly something has upset or hurt him, considering the usual quality of food. Has anyone else noticed how the eggs have such a delicate crunch to them? Or the bacon so charred a single breath reduces it to ash? I hate it when I have a slave that isn't able to do their serving. It loses money, it costs money to fix an injured slave."

Joss stared back at Raff with a smirk.

"Luckily, Piggy isn't your slave."

"No, he isn't. But he is Polliver's which means he is my responsibility until Polliver returns. Of course, being that he is Polliver's property means we should all not just expect Piggy to serve us all, but we should make sure he remains in good condition until his Master returns. All of us. It would be against our own rules to fuck with each others private property."

Raff smiled and gave Samara a piece of bacon from his palm. She delicately used her teeth to take the bacon the licked the excess salt and grease off his palm gratefully.

Joss smiled back at Raff and mildly mentioned, "Don't you still owe me something?"

Raff snorted. "Are you kidding me? You fucked it up! I asked you to scare and molest Sansa a bit! You raped her and then shot Brat! Why should I pay full price for a bungled job?"

Slapping the table in sarcastic joy, Joss yelled out.

"See? There we go! I did a job that wasn't the best of me, so my payment can be not the best of slaves that I've played with! That would be Piggy! All good then. You fuck off about what I do to Piggy and when Polliver gets back, if he is pissed he can take it up with me. Go on and have a doctor check the boy out. I'll pay the bill for it. You'll see I haven't done anything to him that isn't easily healed. It's not my fault if he is ill today. He got some rocks stuck in his knees maybe, his feet are a bit cut up and he might have a few bruises. But when I used him, I wasn't like fucking Tickler. I was careful not to rip him up. No big deal."

Raff stared at Joss in disgust.

"You really don't see the problem here? It's not just about whether he is physically injured by you! He isn't yours! He has an owner. One who told you to not fuck with his pet. His personal property. It's trust, Joss. I'll warn you this once, you lay a single finger on Samara and you'll regret it."

"I won't mess with your girl. Not because I am afraid of your repercussions. She is a turn off big time. Too fucking insane and dangerous, like fucking a rabid pit bull. No thanks, that bitch is all yours."

Joss ate a bite of eggs and grimaced at the egg shells in it.

"My bitch would rip your cock off and bring it to me as a gift."

Raff sneered and Samara seemed to thrill at the thought, staring dreamily at Joss in a way that made him squirm.

"Don't you dare set that cunt off to do that to me! I have no interest in messing with her, Raff. I have the house slaves and my fun with Piggy until Polliver returns."

"That does it."

Brat began to leap over the table to take her fork and knife to Joss as if he were a steak.

Gregor grabbed her and sat her back hard into her chair then removed her utensils from her grip.

"I am leaving for a day or two. When I return, we are leaving here permanently. I'm real estate hunting. While I'm gone, Raff is in charge. Try to leave all dealings with Aerys and any other local to him. I do not want war between our own when everyone around us wants us dead. I want you all preparing to leave, taking care to make sure everything we need is in readiness for a quick, quiet departure."

Joss stared at Gregor then stood up and spread his hands.

"Look how much better my leg is! I really only need the cane for long distances. I am not so injured that I can't take charge for you, Sir."

Gregor looked over at Joss with critical, icy and unimpressed eyes, surveying him.

"I think I left you in charge and alone too long last time. Raff is in charge and you will do as he orders, understand me? And I don't have time for this bullshit with the boy. First Tickler, now you, what the hell is so interesting about that boy? If I come back to hear that the boy is still unable to work because of your actions, I'm going to talk to you myself. You deserve whatever Polliver does to you and Raff is right, you are treading on thin ice right now. This is a bad time to lose trust with your peers. It is never a good time to lose trust with me, Joss. Tread lightly."

 

Just after ten that morning both Polliver and Gregor each did the same exact thing at the same time. Both received texts that made them curse and change their plans rather swiftly.

 

Polliver has just traveled from Highgarden to the Riverlands and was deciding on crashing at a motel for the day. He could sleep finally and take a red eye flight back to the sand-ridden hellscape.

The hot and creepy place was almost worth getting away from Olenna and the stupidity of the remaining Freys and Tullys.

Except his red eyes are staring at the text from Raff and his fists were already clenching along with his teeth.

**I'd get your ass home if you are done. Joss has been all over your boy. He waited until I was with father and Brat was with Gregor then he attacked Piggy. Had the doctor check him over, Piggy has cuts and bruises, nothing bad. Joss didn't tear him internally, fucker was careful. He fucking boasted about that part to us all. Gregor told Joss he deserves whatever you do to him. I let Piggy have today off, locked in your room since he was throwing up. Doctor said that was nerves. Brat and I warned Joss off but he doesn't give a shit.**

Not knowing that he was echoing Gregor's words and sentiment from earlier, Polliver hollered, "What the fuck is it about Piggy? Tickler and Joss..what the fuck, are these fuckers all out there lined up for a turn to pork my Piggy?"

Ignoring the startled looks of the other folks heading into the motel, Polliver jumped back into his stolen car and peeled for the private airport. The joy he felt upon using Waif's small private jet to get back to Westeros was gone now. Totally eclipsed by his rage at both Joss for touching his property and Piggy for not calling about it himself.

Well, they will both get their shit straightened out soon enough. Polliver didn't even flirt with the waitress, he was fixated on his drink and his growing temper.

 

Gregor had just finished packing and was ready to head out when he got his text. He read it and cursed. Well, there went his fucking plans for today.

He was assured by Polliver of the backing he needed and the land. It took only a day for Polliver to get the weak, confused and essentially wiped out Freys and Tullys to sign their estates over to Gregor.

The Freys were nothing more than a group of women, thrilled at no longer bowing to any man but saddened to be saddled with a dark house of nightmares they cannot afford. Land and businesses they were never allowed to learn about.

Gregor is going to take all that worry off their hands and give them a better option.

The Tullys were reduced to a few scattered relatives that had no idea how to run things or those that were too young to do so.

Gregor gave them a better option as well.

He was about to go survey his new lands, the one area that Kevan has not managed to take over is the Riverlands. Simply because he has not had enough focus or men to do so yet.

Gregor will see to it that the Frey ladies and the Tully children were all well protected. That all the people there were protected from everyone but him.

Now instead of going to the first step of his ladder, Gregor must attend to this bothersome shit.

Why did a Lannister always manage to find a way to get into his fucking way?

**Gregor, we have a small crisis. Tommen killed himself and Jaime is being a fucking Lannister. He can't keep up the facade, he is already losing it. He won't listen to anything I say and I know he is planning to do something stupid. You know him, I don't. I need you to talk to him, I can arrange it. Hurry before he fucks our plans.**

Oh, Gregor knew Jaime alright. Waif was correct, Jaime was known to fuck with others plans. So Gregor headed towards the South instead of the Riverlands. Maybe...Gregor called Brat as he was heading into the airport.

"Pack up. I have a job for you tomorrow. First light I want you heading for the Riverlands. I'll meet you there as soon as I help Waif with some Lannister bullshit."

 

 


	119. Using That Freebie

Piggy cringed at a rap on the door but Raff's voice made him relax enough not to bolt into the closet.

"Polliver just texted me that he is going to be here soon. You'd better get dressed and get his coffee ready."

"You told him, didn't you?"

Raff didn't care for the question but he cared less for the dullness in Piggy's voice. That won't go well with Polliver's temper at all. 

"Of course I told him. Brat promised not to tell, I didn't. He is going to be here soon and you know he is going to already be pissed off at Joss. He will fix things for you, Piggy. Come down and set up his coffee. I am going to stay near you until Polliver gets home."

Giving a bitter laugh, Piggy got up and took off the bathrobe, changed his sweatsuit. They don't get it. Why bother? 

 

Polliver stormed into the guest house and headed towards the smell of coffee.

Piggy stood at the counter holding his coffee.

Polliver's rage had halted at the sight of his boy.

Piggy had deep black circles for eyes and the orbs were empty as if they were stones. His face was the color of milk and the fact that Piggy didn't run forward told Polliver to stand down a bit.

One wrong smack might send the boy into that catatonic shit that Samara has, Polliver reasoned and strolled forward, trying to put a tight smirk on for his Piggy.

"Bring me that coffee, boy. I am dead fucking tired, you know. Why didn't you call me right away, huh? Why'd you try to hide it from me, from everyone but Brat. Raff told me you swore her to silence? I told you what I would do to Joss if he messed with you, did you think I wouldn't do it?"

Piggy didn't attempt a babbling assurance or an apology of some sort. For the first time since Polliver could remember, Piggy had nothing to say. He simply brought Polliver his coffee and then went back to the counter. Not to prep food, not to cook, just standing there as if a robot awaiting it's next order.

It hit Polliver all of a sudden that Piggy was....angry with him? Not sulking or pouting, this was Piggy mad something Polliver has never seen. His father's temper was laying on smoldering coals deep down and it began to rise like a phoenix.

"Piggy? Are you angry with me? Do you have something you want to say, boy?"

With the same level of fear Piggy always shows his Master but with a deadened calm slow tone that Polliver hates, the boy replied.

"Yes, Master. I do have something to say. Before I answer your question, I wish to use my freebie. When you beat me till you broke my tailbone because Shae framed me? You said that I had a one time pass from a beating? Well, I have saved it Master, for someday when I sensed a terrible punishment coming. I want to use it now because my answer and some of the things I need to say will make you very mad at me. I don't want to be in traction when it's time to leave this horrible place. So please let me use my freebie, Master? Raff, Samara and Brat all know of it, they are witnesses in case you don't remember."

Piggy indicated the others in the kitchen.

Raff was sitting in a chair with Samara laying her chin gently upon his shined shoe, her lithe frame wrapped around his entire leg. Accusing eyes peered out of her feral face, her ponytails seemed to almost bristle in her upset at Polliver.

Brat was sitting on the other side of the table writing on a map. Now she was tapping her pen aggressively and sharply nodded in agreement to what Piggy had said.

Only Raff didn't look upset with Polliver. Instead, Raff looked at Piggy and warned, "Yeah, we all remember the freebie you have. But tread carefully, boy. If Polliver lets you have your freebie take care to remember that Polliver has a limit you best not ever fuck with."

Piggy nodded and waited for his Master to agree or not.

Taking a very deep breath first, Polliver nodded. He had to remember that his boy just went through a very traumatic rape. Let Piggy just have his little rant and then Polliver will get him back in order. Then go beat the shit out of Joss who is surely waiting for him.

"Fine. Have your freebie and answer my question. Get all your words out, get the poison out, Piggy."

Polliver sounded like a beloved big brother straight from a christian family movie.

"Thank you, Master. Yes, I am angry with you. I know I'm not allowed to feel that way but I do and can't help it. You lied to me and I was stupid enough to believe it."

Piggy looked both wildly terrified and horribly resigned all at once and that might have been the only thing that held Polliver's temper from killing the arrogant little over-dramatic fuck.

"What the fuck are you talking about, Piggy? I have never lied to you, you little ungrateful bitch." 

 Piggy was scared, his voice trembled, his eyes were teary, but he looked directly at Polliver and there was certainty in his words.

"You didn't mean to, Master, but you lied to me. You told me if I told you of anyone trying to hurt me that way, you'd stop it. Make the person not go through with it. You lied. I told you that Joss was after me, you just blew it off. You figured since you warned him off that he would stop. You thought that would work with Tickler too and it didn't. It didn't matter this time either. And beating him up won't do much. He already has assured me that he doesn't mind taking the punishment then just coming after me with much worse than the first time. If Tickler had lived, he would have healed from your punishment and come after me for revenge. It won't change anything except make you feel better to hurt Joss for using your property. But this property is the only one who is going to really feel it in the end. It is really my own prank on myself, you know. I believed a bully. I got too attached to you beyond my collar and leash, I made the mistake of thinking you really had at least the tiniest amount of caring after all this time of my serving you."

Polliver was panting nearly as hard as Piggy was. Difference was Polliver was trying to keep his temper and Piggy was all about letting his loose.

"That is enough, boy. That hole is getting mighty deep and if you say something that I can't forget later...."

Piggy gave a small bitter laugh.

"You know, if my future with you is going to be a series of Tickler's and Joss's coming to hurt me..then maybe I'll dig the hole deep enough that you can stick me in it for good."

"Shut the fuck up talking like that, Piggy. I mean it, that fucking limit, yeah? You are tap dancing on the fucking edge of it and you better take a fucking step back from it."

Piggy grabbed his hair and yanked so hard, they could all see hair come flying around him as if a thousand Daddy Long-legs had exploded. He opened his mouth wide and seemed to vomit out screeching words. 

"I DON'T JUST FUCKING GROVEL AND SERVE YOU! I FUCKING NEARLY WORSHIP YOU, YOU FUCKING MADE ME THIS WAY! JUST LIKE RAFF DID TO SAMARA! I DO EVERYTHING, ANYTHING FOR YOU! I COULD HAVE RUN OR TRIED TO A THOUSAND TIMES OVER! HELL, I WAS OFFERED SANCTUARY FROM YOU TWICE AND EACH TIME I REFUSED! I AM LOYAL TO THE FUCKING BONE! YOU PLAYED THE ULTIMATE FUCKING PRANK ON ME! YOU GOT ME TO ACTUALLY BECOME YOUR MOST FAITHFUL PATHETIC LOYAL BITCH, GOT ME TO TRUST AND BELIEVE EVERY WORD YOU SAID THEN -"

Polliver was on him with his hand wrapped too tightly around Piggy's throat for another word to be roared at him.

"DON'T. YOU. EVER. YELL. AT. ME."

Each word was a chipped off roar that was spit into Piggy's face.

Polliver had Piggy up against the fridge, nearly strangling the boy. He pulled his fist back then caught sight of Piggy's eyes. There was fear, resignation and a bitter look of "I knew it".

Polliver crashed his fist into the metal next to Piggy's head.

Polliver growled then screamed full into Piggy's face making the boy scream back in terror.

He threw the boy to the ground and pointed at finger at him. "You stay the fuck there and don't make a fucking sound. I'm done hearing your words and the freebie is only going to stand if you say nothing else. Not a fucking word, Piggy! Stay right the fuck there!"

He whirled to stare wildly at Raff and Brat.

"You make sure that little cunt doesn't move or speak! If he does, I'm going to break his leg slowly."

Polliver stormed off into the house and Piggy just leaned his head against the sink cabinet, shutting his eyes.

It had been useless to try and speak anyway, but at least Piggy got to say his piece. But he knew that his lashing out at Polliver would come back at him one way or another.

Mainly by Joss. It sounded like crashing and Joss hollering from a distance. Polliver will take his anger out on Joss who will transfer it back to Piggy tenfold. It was all useless and Piggy started to cry.

Samara softly whined in sympathy and Brat walked over to crouch down next to Piggy.

"Hey. That was the bravest fucking thing I've ever seen you do. It really made an impact on Polliver. It made him angry but I think he actually heard you too." Brat patted Piggy's shoulder and he smiled weakly at her.

"He will beat up Joss and Joss will take it out on me someday. I just have to wait through his threats and mild attacks for his big revenge one."

Brat rolled her eyes and punched Piggy's shoulder lightly.

"Okay, enough already. You sound as EMO as my brother Jon used to. Enough with the self pity, that helps even less, you know."

Both Brat and Piggy looked up along with Raff and Samara as Polliver came storming back into the kitchen. He was dragging a bloody and protesting Joss with him. Joss had a bloody nose and his hands were cuffed behind him.

Polliver waved Brat out of his way as he forced the indignant Joss into the room and then kicked his bad leg out.

He stepped over Joss and leaned over Piggy, who cowered low, not understanding what new torment this was.

Piggy was shocked when Polliver lifted him to his feet then thrust his own thick belt into Piggy's hands. The thick leather felt awkward in his trembling hands and the edges stung the many band aids on his hands and fingers.

"Master...I don't understand." Piggy stammered as Polliver glared at him.

Joss tried to stand and Polliver stepped over to shove him back down.

"You don't get up any further than your knees or I'll make sure that leg is injured permanently, asshole. Stay on your fucking knees, pervert."

Polliver turned back to Piggy to gesture and growl.

"He is yours to punish. You strap him all you want until I tell you to stop and everyone here can be a witness."

Joss stared at Polliver with his mouth open.

"You are kidding me, right? You are going to let a slave, a fucking insignificant little PIG CUNT TO HIT ME WITH A BELT?"

Polliver made sure that Joss saw his eyes.

"Do I look like I'm making a fucking joke to you? Since you told everyone that my beating you won't bother you any for touching my boy...then we will try another way. So yeah, I'm going to let my pet, my slave, my property beat the ever living shit out of you and you are going to kneel there and take it. Or I'm going to shoot your leg to permanently handicap you. I'm willing to take the punishment from Gregor for it."

Polliver had his gun out in seconds as Joss started to try and stand again. The praying mantis limbs froze and then grudgingly went back to it's kneeling form.

"Raff, you can't allow this! Gregor wouldn't let this happen! Polliver coming at me is one thing...to let a fucking slave hit his better? Brat, stop fucking laughing, it isn't funny! Raff, come on, man, don't let this happen!"

Joss pleaded to a stone faced Raff while Brat continued to giggle in delighted justified mirth.

"You heard what Gregor said, you deserved anything that Polliver did to you. Well, nothing was said about how Polliver had to get you. No rules against a Master giving a pet an order to hurt someone. As long as Polliver is in charge of him and makes sure you aren't injured too bad to work..."

 Raff let his words fade off and smirked.

Polliver pushed Piggy over towards Joss.

"Go on..do your worst, Piggy."

Piggy looked up at his Master and realized this was the closest Polliver was coming to an apology, he was trying to make amends. It made all the difference to Piggy and he sniffed then nodded.

"Thank you Master."

Joss growled at Piggy as he came closer, holding the strap. His eyes weren't as dead anymore and his face was colder than winter in the north.

"You can't let him do this! Raff, what the fuck, man?" Joss glared at all of them in turn. "I won't let this go, hear me? I'll get you all back, I-"

The strap hit Joss hard in his mouth and bloodied his bottom lip.

"If you don't want me to strike your face again, then shut up. Unless you want to apologize to me?"

Piggy's voice was lower and harsher than usual.

Joss spit his blood all over Piggy in response and the boy laughed. 

"I didn't think so. It wouldn't do any good to ask you to say you are sorry because you aren't. You are already thinking up worse things to do to me, I know that. That's fine. So let me make sure this really hurts so you and I both really remember it. I want you to remember my beating you in front of everyone, I want you to remember the pain and humiliation of it all. I hope you recall it every time you touch me."

Piggy stared at Joss who raised himself as straight and menacing as a man on his knees with his hands cuffed could look. Joss sneered then stuck his chin out, waiting as if bored. He was so fucking arrogant and smug, at least he was until Piggy exploded.

He swung the strap as if he were using the bat and let all his fury, his humiliation, his pain fly through his arm into the belt. Polliver and Raff both winced as Piggy landed a perfect hit right between Joss's legs. The man's mouth opened so wide it looked like his jaw unhinged. Piggy watched with true satisfaction as the man slowly curled into a ball wheezing a high pitched scream.

"Oh nice shot, Piggy!" Brat cheered and Polliver muttered, "You're gonna have to give him a minute after that shot, Piggy. Don't hit him there like that again, I think you might have broken something in there. You certainly flattened something with a hit like that. Damn. No head or groin shots. Oh, he is recovering a bit."

Polliver yanked Joss up to his knees again and then stood back. "There ya go, Piggy. Have fun."

Piggy did.

Joss did not.

The belt came from every direction, Piggy circled Joss faster and faster.

The boy has been both a recipient of such beatings and has watched countless of them. He is applying every trick he has learned and fucking Polliver kept giving Piggy encouragement to keep going. Joss's balls were in agony, he vomited and still came the sharp, now nearly intolerable belt all over his arms, back, legs.

Joss looked up and saw Brat's eyes full of vindictive mirth and Raff's eyes nearly glowed. Then he noticed Samara and it became more painful than ever to take this beating.

Raff had pulled Samara into his lap to watch the beating and he noticed her breathing was heavier. She was very slightly moving against Raff, a soft growl almost a purr running through her. Raff had whispered into her ear as he palmed her rock hard nipple, making her whimper and arch into his touch.

"Is my little feral girl getting excited over the beating?"

Raff smirked when she had nodded timidly and he slid a hand into her pants. A sharp cry and Samara was bucking against his hand while watching Piggy savagely strap Joss. Raff slid himself out of his pants and Samara was thrust hard onto his cock. She cried out in pleasure and watched Joss's beating as her Master whispered for her to ride him.

Joss had looked up to see that rabid bitch pumping her hips and Raff encouraging her to orgasm to Joss's pain. The humiliation of it was too much and he tried again to lurch away. Polliver kicked Joss in the stomach and then held him from behind for Piggy.

"He can't help himself. Too fucking prideful. That's alright, buddy, I'm going to help you. Go on, Piggy."

Piggy began to deliver blows so harsh to Joss's stomach and chest that the sweat flew off him. Finally, Joss couldn't take it and the curses he was snarling turned to screams and then, "Please just stop! Please!"

Samara threw her head back and cried out harshly as Raff bit down into her neck as he joined her in orgasm.

Piggy stopped hitting Joss and leaned against the wall sweating and sobbing. Polliver shoved Joss away and he went over to Piggy, taking the belt away. He gave his crying boy a hard quick hug then whacked his head.

"Don't ever speak to me like that again, you hear me? Not ever. Now, all hear this. Joss, the next time you think to touch my Piggy I want you to know I'll let him get more creative with the punishment. Next time I'm gonna let Piggy borrow from our torture tools. Now fuck off."

They all watched as Joss staggered up. After Polliver released the cuffs, Joss shoved weakly at him then staggered out of the room.

"They will be so fucking sorry." Joss assured himself as he tried to not sob in front of the curious house slaves who heard the beating but didn't see it luckily. Brat came by and on her way past the limping, staggering man she slapped his sore, swollen ass.

"Don't worry about it, babe. You know how boys can be, right?"

Joss yelped like a girl and swore that Brat will be the first recipient of the revenge.


	120. Let's Pretend Until We Can't

Loras was looking up at the small window in his new room. With it's mattress stuffed with cheap cotton instead of straw. He stretched his legs along the thin cot and felt the fabrics catch. Repressing a shudder, Loras pretended the cheap linen clothing scratching against the cheap wool blanket didn't bother him.

Loras loves the Let's Pretend game, he always did. His parents, his grandmother they encouraged the game quite a bit to the twins since Loras can remember. It taught them how to act in any situation and being creative the twins played it in fantastical ways while they were young kids.

"I was going to be a knight and she was going to be a queen." He muttered and grinned to himself.

Since the drugs have been purged, he has had no choice but to suffer the onslaught of sharp color, razor edged reality. It has driven him near insane along with cravings and residual continual withdrawal symptoms that creep from nowhere to haunt him.

Loras thought Waif would save them, his grandmother had just lost her temper. She wanted him back and that was his only goal, to get out of here and back to her. Grandmother would own him but that was better than this, anything was better.

So Loras has been playing the Let's Pretend game and he is very good at it. So good.

Loras feels guilt and shame over his sister's downfall and death. He was horrified to learn the fall out of everything north and half of the south.

So he used these feelings, Loras cried at Kevan Lannister's feet.

Whispering how there were so many sins, how his sister's death was on his soul, so many filthy sessions with men how it gnaws at him.

It does, it always does when Loras is sober and sees how many he has mindlessly fucked that he could name or place an hour later. He begged for Kevan to murder him or at least whip him for the sins, the sickening hole that he was.

Wrenching his body, sobbing, every emotion was real and Loras did despise himself, so very much. He truly meant it, to at least hurt was a way to feel something besides this wretched haunting ghost walk in his mind.

Kevan took pity upon the desperately wounded man begging for mercy, for atonement.

"The brand upon your neck is sufficient, I would think, Loras. And I am sure that my new young counselors are a little overzealous and see to it that you have any daily discipline needed. I am so pleased that you are finally seeing the truth of yourself, Loras. But there is forgiveness to be bestowed upon you, son. I am going to help you atone for all you have done wrong, but there is mercy here. You were born into sin, taught to sin and were given the belief that it was normal, it was your duty. So you can learn a new way of life now, you can enjoy having open eyes and a pure soul to offer the world."

Loras managed to humbly nod and sob at this pompous, crazy man's feet while trembling. The shaking was real as was the fear, he knows this fanatic is dangerous that all of them are and he is right to fear them.

This had to be done though.

Because ever since Tommen jumped to his death, Jaime has had a look in his eye.

Loras has grown up around Jaime Lannister and he knows that fucking look.

It means Jaime is nearing the end of his patience for the game, he is planning something stupid. And whatever stupid it is, it will affect Loras getting out of this hell hole. That can't happen and Loras had flown to leave a colored rock on the window sill for Waif.

She came through the ducts and they spoke.

He needed to create a distraction so that Kevan and his staff wouldn't be in the way. Gregor and Waif were waiting to speak with Jaime. Loras has become a favorite of the downstairs cook and will allow Jaime a blind eye and an unlocked herb garden door.

Loras wasn't willing to get himself injured by causing a distraction with mistakes, bad behavior or freak outs. He has done all those before and the results were painful. And if he shows his newfound zeal-ism and threw himself at Kevan's mercy it would help if Jaime gets caught or does something stupid.

Waif said he needed to gain some trust, needed to show that he was repentant and devout so he will be given enough slack that they can pull him out. 

So Loras bowed his head before Kevan, ready and submissive. "Please...help me become a better person, Sir. I..I need to be shown how to..to be..." He burst into overwhelmed sobs and Kevan smiled benevolently.

"I understand, son.  The first lesson for you to learn will be humility. We shall strip you down of your pretenses and false riches, then build you up of the true things of value and virtue in this world."

Loras agreed and he stared at the papers put before him. He held the pen as Kevan loomed over him, too bright in a white suit. Meryn and Karl, his favorite tormentors were menacing and silent directly behind him. With a single moment of hesitation only, Loras scrawled his name wherever Kevan's finger pointed. Pages flipped and the finger pointed and Loras scrawled.

Easy enough. Pretend that Kevan didn't just inherent everything of the Tyrells upon Olenna's death.

"Very good, Loras. You are on the right track now. I think it's time for you to be allowed to train as a disciple. As I said, you need to learn to be humble, so for the next month, you shall be a servant and apprentice to Meryn and Karl. I am sure they shall keep you on the righteous path and you shall learn much from them."

Now Loras was laying on his bed in his room, his new room with a mattress and blanket. New clothes and a unlocked door that he chose to shut.

He hoped that Waif and Gregor were able to talk some sense into Jaime but he doubts it. All he cares about is getting his own ass out of this fucking horror show.

Loras is going to distance himself from Jaime as of tomorrow. His tormentors will be keeping Loras quite busy anyway. They will humiliate, beat, even sodomize him and call it teaching. He will take it and think of how much closer he is to getting away back to safety.

 

Piggy and Samara ate their breakfasts at their Masters feet and it was twisted possessive kindness that both slaves were grateful for in their own twisted ways. Joss rolled his eyes, not so much at the girl eating out of Raff's hand but the boy and Polliver.

Piggy sat on the ground next to Polliver's chair. He had a plate and cup balanced that he had to keep setting down to leap up and get Polliver's refills. Joss kept his mouth shut however, he was still sore as hell and so was his ego.

Brat ate like she will never see another meal again and Raff smirked.

"A first away job is exciting, but it won't be the last time you see food. The plane doesn't leave for another two hours, you have time to relax and eat normally." 

Blushing, Brat tried to slow down. "Yeah, I'm a nervous eater maybe. Or maybe I just am trying to get the last of Piggy's cooking in me that I might see in a long time. The Riverlands isn't known for their culinary prowess. They live on bread, salted fish and pie. Everything goes into a dry, crumbly pie full of things you can't identify.  Not like Piggy's pies."

Polliver shuddered. "How can you go without a good chicken pot pie or a nice Shepard's pie?"

Raff sat back and started to speak. 

"I spoke to Gregor last night. I told him of our dramatic day and he gave me his orders."

With a sharp smile, Raff continued, even as a squeaking sound made his eyes slightly look down.

"Rattleshirt, you will be responsible for seeing to both Brat's safety but you are in charge for creating a secure border for the safety of our new home. I want those bridges cut off from anyone but those we allow to enter. I want a fucking wall, moats, whatever the fuck you want to use around our borders. The women and children of both Frey and Tully are also to be kept safe. Brat will be in charge until Gregor arrives, you will follow her lead and respect her as if it were Gregor himself. I am sending with you the group of slaves and the one handler that survived the North attack. It is all I have left of my personal stock that father doesn't own. So if you work or fuck them to death, I'll do the same to you. Keep them under conditions that the handler advises and they will do your building for you."

Joss flinched at hearing his former name and the assignment.

Nodding sharply, he grumbled, "Guess I'd better go pack then."

He slammed his coffee cup down hard enough to shatter it. Shoving his chair back, causing Piggy to nearly jump into Polliver's lap, Joss stormed out of the room.

Brat groaned. "Why am I being punished?"

Raff and Polliver laughed.

"Don't worry. Think of all those weak sad little ladies and babies looking to you to soothe them and make everything all better. It's good you have Joss with you. Have you seen yourself recently? You are the spitting image of your father in some ways. Mean and ugly as sin, scary and threatening. Joss might be a pervert and he might not have my good looks, but he can at least be charming and disarming when he needs to."

Raff spit out his coffee at Polliver's boast of good looks but Brat gave a hurtful frown.

"Squealing bag of dick tips, I am not like Gregor at all! First of all, it's just a damned scar, I mean, who cares? And I can clean up pretty well, not like Sansa, but we grew up under the same roof. I was forced into acting a certain way for years, I'm sure it will be enough to soothe the fucking ladies. Once I have assured that they are all fed and sheltered, I can turn to the importance of making our new fortress one that Kevan can never take down."

Raff smiled and shook his head.

"As soon as we can we shall come help you out, until then Joss and the slaves can support you. I think you underestimate how much these folks need assistance. And their reactions to you might be a little hostile. Do you really think they are happy with us taking over their lands? Half of their men were butchered by us at that battle, the rest taken by Kevan when we lost the battle. He rendered them useless by destroying their male population. Kevan sent his men in and they took every able bodied male over the age of seven away to his school or reformatory. They have signed everything over to Gregor just out of sheer desperation to survive. It is up to you to make sure they are kept both content and scared. We don't need Sansa, we don't want a pretty, perfect socialite. These women need to see a different kind of female, one that can be as strong and scary as a male. Get them to see you as a savior at best and at worst get them to respect and fear you enough to do as they are told."

Another squeak, this one more urgent and Raff glared downwards. It was very rare that Samara dared to try and catch Raff's attention after being initially ignored. She looked up and he saw she was nearly green.

"Go on."

He watched as Samara flew off towards the nearest bathroom and hoped she wasn't sick. A virus ripping through them all would be very bad timing. When Brat and Joss left Samara threw up again, this time Raff put her in bed. Her temperature was normal and she said there was no cramping, she was just very tired. 

 

That night Piggy decided to make hot dogs with beans, fries and a broccoli cheese pie. Samara walked into the kitchen to assist him. She took one whiff of the hot dogs and passed out at Piggy's feet. Raff called his own physician at that point.

The doctor was wary of the girl but Raff assured him that in spite of the stories, his girl was controlled. In fact, Samara went into her catatonic state as soon as the unfamiliar man touched her. She did not come out of it until the doctor was done and Raff gathered her into his arms and whispered that she was a good girl.

She came back and snuggled herself into Raff as the doctor began to speak in a cold detached voice.

"Viserys, I am going to schedule your slave for a procedure tomorrow morning. Normally, I would recommend the cut-wife in the slave city but as a favor to you I will preform this myself. I will even anesthetize her and offer medication for afterwards. She is about three months along, I'd say, so her recovery should be very fast. Hell, most slave girls are back to work within a day or two from it. Very common and safe procedure."

Raff stared at the doctor in shock.

"She is pregnant? Three months?"

Samara stiffened and then whimpered, putting a hand on her stomach. Pregnant? No, doctor said about a surgery, the cut wife...don't think of any of it, Samara chided herself.

Raff hugged her as Samara tried not to cry and he said, "Thank you. I will let you know on the procedure later on. Don't change your schedule around. We are traveling quite soon and I am sure there are many places, ones you can even recommend for me."

The man nodded but warned, "You know I must tell your father of this immediately. He will become concerned if you do not abort her."

"I'll take my chances. Here is the full amount of your usual emergency fee, thank you."

Raff's voice couldn't have been colder and the doctor gave a stone face back.

"How you and your sister have changed. I have prayed that one of you would come to your senses. When I heard you had come home I briefly had hope it was you. I was wrong. Leave these strange men, that ugly girl that acts like a blasphemy, the opinionated, rude spoiled pet and this feral girl....if you must keep the girl, fine. Put her on a leash and let me abort then sterilize her. Your father can accept one feral exotic little pet, but the rest of this craziness..."

Raff nearly shoved him out of the door and Polliver looked up at Raff's pale face from the living room couch.

"What the fuck is all this about? Did he try to murder Samara for your dad or something?"

"No. He just suggested a visit to the cut wife or his own office before even saying that my pet was three months pregnant."

Polliver stared open mouthed at Raff and Piggy leaped up from his curled position on the rug.

"Hey, I didn't say you could go anywhere!"

Piggy winced rubbing his back hoping that his role of footstool could be over with this heavy news to deal with.

"Master, Samara needs me now! She will need to talk to her best friend. Please?"

Raff nodded.

"Yeah, let him go see her so I can talk to you in private. And boy, I want you to tell me everything afterwards." 

Piggy scurried off and Polliver asked, "How soon will your father call for you about this?"

Raff smirked as he poured himself and Polliver a whiskey. 

"Oh, I'd say about the time we finish our second glass. So I'd better start thinking about what the fuck I'm going to do."


	121. If You Leave Us No Choices But To Leap....

Polliver stared at Raff with raised eyebrows.

"You aren't really thinking of having a baby right now, are you? I mean, this is hardly a good time for it, ya know? Maybe in a year or so once Gregor has us established and a little safer, sure. But right now, we need every able bodied person and that means your little feral too. She can't fight, serve and travel if she can't find her own feet, Raff."

Shrugging, Raff slumped into the armchair and sipped at his whiskey.

"It's an ego thing probably. It's a big deal to have a first son around here and I'd like to think my girl's fierceness would only be an asset to my first child. But I know this isn't the time or the place for it. I will get a child off her just not this time around...but I'm not letting any of my father's butchers touch her. I don't want her to have an accidental hemorrhage or infection or a purposeful sterilization. Both tend to be quite common around here. This would give my father a perfect excuse to kill her or at least make sure I never father children off her."

Polliver slugged his whiskey and refilled both their glasses.

"Well, I don't think either of us nor Piggy knows how to do a medical abortion. I mean if you want, I can make sure she loses the baby, but I can't promise its the safest method."

He joked as Raff covered his eyes and groaned.

"I have thought of all the methods from poisoning her tea to beating it out of her and none are safe. I have rid many a slave girl that a handler or renter got pregnant of their babies, without care for the consequences. I know how to cause a miscarriage easy enough, but I have had a few girls nearly die of it and and some that would never conceive due to it. I will ask Waif to help me out. I can't imagine she hasn't run into the same problem with her girls. Surely, she will know someone who can abort safely. Until then I just have to convince my father to leave the thing alone and let me deal with it. We are only here another few days until Gregor sends the plane back for us."

 

Aerys barely had swept into the room before Raff sighed and announced loudly, "Before you begin with the warnings and threats, I'm going to abort her. So calm yourself, father. I can see the fire in your eyes from here, hell, I think you are scaring Polliver."

Polliver looked might uncomfortable to be in this power struggle but he certainly didn't look scared. In fact he grinned at Aerys and tried to ease the tension.

"Well, that is settled, right? How about I leave you two and go check on Piggy and Samara, yeah?"

"No." Aeyrs barked out and then stood before both of the seated men as if an angry authority figure chastising two naughty boys.

"I am thrilled to hear that you came to your senses about breeding with that feral girl. Her procedure will be quick and painless but I need address some things with both of you. I-"

Aeyrs was shocked when both men had stood up to face him.

"Sir, I am not that young boy you met years back when I first came here to visit you after your son joined Gregor. You will not scold us as you did when you caught us late to dinner because we were fucking your little slave chef. We are adults and you will please treat us that way." Polliver's eyes were hard as his voice was sharply polite.

Before Aerys could deliver a scathing reply to the cur who dared to speak this way in front of his entourage, Viserys spoke up.

"And I said I was going to have Samara aborted, I never said by who or how. I will not ever allow my girl to be aborted any of your people. They will either kill her or sterilize her. I might choose to breed her someday. She is mine to do whatever I wish with, you have no say, this culture has no say. Do you understand that, father?"

Aerys's eyes narrowed and his voice was so very quiet but articulate.

 _"Your people?"_ He echoed. "These people and this culture were who raised you, who gave us shelter when Kings Landing threw us out..our culture kept you in Gregor's favor or do you only accept the parts of our culture that profit you? And I would never acknowledge a grandchild born of that crazy little cunt!"

Polliver sighed and sank back onto the sofa with resignation as son and father verbally went toe to toe. A slave girl brought Polliver more whiskey, then stayed near in case he needed a refill.

It didn't occur to Polliver until it was too late that he had been kept from leaving the room.

 

Piggy had taken Samara into her favorite little day room with a stone balcony. It had a stone bench and they sat upon it while Piggy stroked his friend's hair.

"They will abort it. Make me never have babies. Kill me."

He shook his head firmly at the words fluttered with hands on scars.

"No. Raff won't let them do those things to you. I mean..if he aborts you, he won't let them do it or hurt you that way. I'm so sorry. I really am."

Samara gave a shrug and another flurry of fingers.

"Well, see that is good news! If Raff says you can have a baby with him later on someday then you know its true. You'll get through this like everything else. Raff cares about you and he won't let anyone else hurt you. Polliver and Raff will always take care of us, right?"

Piggy wished he hadn't said that so smugly, as the room was full of large slaves led by a smirking Zuli.

He and Samara stood up and tried to keep them from surrounding them but there were at least five of them crowding into the small room.

"What is this?"

"This is an ambush, stupid boy and you are outnumbered. Aerys is tired of your terrible example to all slaves, boy. And luck of the gods, your new buddy Joss was happy to pay my Master to have you both kidnapped and sold. Seems he has a terrible hatred for both of you. However, Aerys is only willing to accommodate Joss with your sale, boy. He was willing to sell you too, girl, until he heard you were pregnant. Now you are going to have to be euthanized like the rabid bitch you are."

Zuli was pleased at the shocked, fearful faces and then she was filled with an even fiercer joy when the pets prepared to battle rather than surrender.

"Oh good...I really was hoping for you to both give us a reason for excessive violence. Kill the bitch and beat the boy down until he submits to being bound and gagged."

The slaves surged forth and Piggy reacted on instinct. He grabbed Samara's hand and she leaped over the balcony with him. The thick garden bushes broke their fall and they staggered to their feet. As the others started to jump after them, Piggy and Samara ran through the garden as fast as they could.

"Listen...towards the maze, go for the maze, I'll meet you there. Run inside of it and shut the gate, hold it shut until I get there."

They divided and so did the slaves. Samara ran for the maze with Zuli and three more on her heels, while two other peeled off to chase after Piggy who was heading towards the fish pool.

 

Piggy dove behind a series of boulders running with water and he crawled to a smaller rock with a small lever. He pushed it and the key Joss used came into view. That day after Joss had finished raping and tormenting Piggy he had shown him where he put the key.

"That way once you are broken in, I can send you to get the key and bring it to me at the maze like a good little fuck toy."

Joss had taunted but Piggy had been grateful for the secret. He needed as many as he can get, such as now.

Scooping up the key and a large rock, Piggy tried to see if he could sneak past the searching slaves to the maze.  

 

Samara was almost at the maze when she got hit with something and fell into the dirt, panting, writhing. Laughing, Zuli dropped her bow and arrows next to the girl. Reaching down, Zuli yanked the arrow out of Samara's hip with force, making sure to twist it first.

The girl screamed and Zuli kicked the girl in the head to daze her enough to flip her over. With a triumphant little dance, Zuli began to stomp onto Samara's stomach. One of the others objected.

"That's sick, it's enough. Just kill her and end it."

Zuli stopped and wiped sweat off her forehead as Samara gagged and clawed at the earth underneath her. Slowly, to savor the moment, Zuli bent low and withdrew a sharp dagger from her belt.

"I want you to hear me clearly. I'm going to do everything I can to make Viserys stay here under his father's care. And I will be his pampered little slave again, just like when he lived at home. When he needs comfort over losing a rabid little cunt, I will be there to comfort him. I'm going to fuck him tonight while you begin to rot with your little flattened fetus."

Zuli licked her lips and as she went to draw the blade over that skinny throat, Samara lifted the dropped arrow and shoved it through Zuli's eye and into her brain. The girl started to seize and make a yakking sound as the others pulled her away trying to understand what happened.

Another of the fallen arrows found its way into another slave's throat during the confusion and Samara took the last arrow with her as she staggered towards the maze again. Two were left to try and tend their fallen friends, then they came after the rabid cunt with a molten lava rage.

Samara got inside the maze and slammed the gate shut. She looked about frantically and saw no way to keep the gate shut. If she held it shut with her hands, they would just use their knives to cut her fingers off. A horrid cramp knifed through Samara's lower stomach and she keened.

The pounding feet told her the other two have recovered from their shock and coming to finish the job. With no other option, Samara ran  further into the maze to hide, unaware the blood trailing down her legs led a gory path to her.

They cornered her soon and the other slaves trying to find Piggy jumped at the howls and screams that suddenly cut off.

While the two were startled Piggy lunged and smashed the boulder into the temple of the slave closest to him. "Sorry, oh gods, sorry."

Piggy knew he killed the boy and he filled with guilt and panic, he had only meant to knock the kid out. Instead, the boy turned at the last second and Piggy heard the sickening crunch as the rock went crashing into his temple.   

The other slave screamed and Piggy ran faster than ever, for the gate. There was no way to get help, no way to hail Polliver or Raff or anyone at all. He had heard the screams and prayed that it wasn't Samara laying dead in the maze. With the other slave pounding the dirt right behind him, Piggy made it into the halfway open gate.

He slammed it shut on the girl's fingers and she shrieked while spitting at him.

Grimacing, Piggy rammed the gate again but the girl pushed into him and entered. Swinging a blade and Piggy ran, following a trail of blood that grew thicker and then there was something he nearly stepped in. Shuddering, Piggy flew to find out if Samara was still alive. He heard the girl land into the mess behind him and Piggy ran faster.

A bell began to clang somewhere and voices were yelling, a body was found.

Piggy ran faster and nearly fell over Samara's curled up body. For a long dreadful moment he thought she was dead and then she grabbed him weakly. He yanked her up and then her dropped her as he screamed in pain.

The slave has caught up and began to beat Piggy with a club.

Samara growled and forced herself past the waves of cramps, past the burning where the arrow caught her hip to help her friend. Pulling herself taut, she launched to tangle in the legs of the slave, knocking her to the ground.

Samara darted forward fast and ripped the girl's throat out before Piggy pulled her away.

Half dragging her, Piggy went towards the other more hidden small gate that Joss had fucked him in front of. Piggy had to try twice before his shaking hands turned the key in the unused slot. The gate shrieked when it opened, causing both Piggy and Samara to hold their breath.

They heard voices in the maze now, yelling bout dead bodies and blood trails.

Piggy threw the frail Samara over his shoulder after he locked the gate after them and then he ran. Staying between the estate and Slave City, he ran between the small alleys. Only homeless and drugged folks there that didn't care who or what they were.

Only after Piggy found them a small rotting shack at the edge of the next city to hide in did something sink in. Piggy had just finished patching them up the best he could when it hit him. Grabbing Samara's face in his hands, he nearly screamed into her face in his hysteria.

"Oh my gods...Samara! WE RAN AWAY! We. ran. We escaped, left, that is how Polliver and Raff will see this. We have no way of reaching them! We can't call, I only had a button on that damned phone, no actual number and I don't have the phone with me! We can't go walking back to the guest house without risking someone killing or selling us. We ran away."  

Samara mirrored Piggy's horrified awareness just before her eyes rolled back and she passed out.

"Well fuck. What the fuck do we do now?"

Piggy tried to make Samara as comfortable as he could, covering her with his shirt for extra warmth. The rains and night air have turned the scorching dry heat to a chilly northern fall night. Shivering, he curled up next to Samara and prayed for many things.

For Samara not to catch a fever or hemorrhage.

To find a way to let Polliver know what happened, so that they can be saved.

Most of all for Polliver and Raff not to assume that they went on a killing spree and bolted.

Piggy slept dreaming of ice cold eyes and Polliver's voice as he had once held Piggy over a quarry. Samara slept whimpering, dreaming of a dragon raining fire upon her for daring to kill and run.

 

Aerys was in a fury but it was nothing compared to Polliver and Raff.

At first the two men clung to the idea that the two were hiding somewhere, injured and too scared to come forward. They fully expected to find two weeping pets that would crawl forward at the sound of their Masters voices.

Both were fully prepared to hear, believe and defend their pets about being attacked with deadly intent and having to choice but to defend themselves.

But no matter how loud Polliver or Raff called in the gardens, the maze, the slave city, the village, even the house, nothing.

Aerys was buzzing fury into their ears of how they should have known better than to trust two little northern savages.

"I will admit that I had sent my slaves to abort the girl. But that was all that was to happen and I told the slaves to make sure the two understood that."

He lied with a convincing grace as the rain started to pour, causing them to call off the search for the night.

"You pushed them too far, you always had to prove me wrong. Made my friends betray me, made my girlfriends sleep with others for money just to prove you were right about them. Now you decided to fuck with my pet. I refuse to believe they just went on a murderous rampage and ran away over reasonable conversation over abortion, father. They killed and ran out of panic, they don't panic without a reason, father. Not our pets. So rest assured, they will be severely punished for running and for the deaths but don't expect me to have them killed or publicly touched by any of you or yours."

Raff shoved past his father and stormed upstairs with Polliver right behind him.

"Pack everything. The second we find them we have to leave. We also have to find them before anyone else does or they might be dead before we are told they were found."

Polliver nodded and went to hurry to throw everything together. Usually Piggy does the packing and it comes out much neater.

"Oh Piggy, you have really fucking dug that hole this time, didn't you? Don't worry, Master is coming to hunt his little pig down and oh, are you going to be squealing for forgiveness for such a long time. You should have saved that freebie after all, boy."

 


	122. Try Even If All Fails

The plane ended up having to stop and refuel.

Brat and Joss wandered the airport after eating. Taking advantage of the stop, Brat hit every little cheap air-mall store she could for makeup, hair and clothing stuff.

Joss said nothing, he seemed to be somewhat upset, whispering into his cell phone in a small alcove.

"No, this wasn't the fucking deal I made with you and your fucking Master, bitch. I never wanted either of them dead, you stupid cunt! I knew Raff and Polliver would find their pets again but not until after they'd gotten one hell of a different slave experience. That is what I wanted, it's what I paid for. Now if they are found, they will say I was involved because you had to open your fucking mouths! I will take you and Aerys down with me, you know that, right? You think Raff will forgive Aerys for trying to murder his beloved fucking creature? And you are a slave that tried to commit murder. Aerys will never admit to doing it and he will let you hang for it. That is how they murder slaves, isn't it? Oh wait...no. That is if you tried to murder a better, right? It is a stoning by your own fellow slaves, isn't it? Masters just love to watch that shit, don't they? Hell, I might even throw in on some of the bets! Find them and rip out their tongues and cut off their fingers so they cannot tell. Then sell them at the lowest, darkest fucking auction you can find."

 

Practiced using her new items on the plane, Brat left the bathroom to twirl in front of Joss. The man had folded his long limbs into a cross legged position on a chair and had been steadily drinking without ever seeming to lose an intense dark sobriety.

He looked up as Brat appeared before him then burst into laughter.

"Oh fuck you!" Brat snarled but deep down she knew that she didn't pull off the look she was going for.

"I'm sorry...it's just..one year for Halloween Tickler and Polliver dressed as women. Tickler tried to go as Meryl Streep and Polliver went as Lady Gaga. Both looked better than you do right now. You look like you are fresh from terrorizing young students at Hogwarts. You look like a boy trying to wear Olenna Tyrell. I mean...what the hell is all that on your face? Adding that extra huge swatch of foundation on your scar makes it worse! Now instead of a scar it looks like half your face is cracking."

Brat stormed back towards the bathroom and Joss slowly stopped laughing.

He stared at the bathroom door as if considering something then he gave a hollow grin. As his limbs began to spider his way to standing, Joss's face changed to appear chastised but big brotherly. He went to lean against the bathroom door as he watched Brat furiously try and scrub the make up off her face.

"Hey, leave the skin. You'll look worse without it."

"Go away. I got it, it didn't work, I'll fix it. Now leave me alone, I don't have time to listen to your fucking insults."

"Yeah, I was an insensitive ass. Sorry. Guess I'm still upset about the other day. It was you laughing at me then. But listen, it's over. The reason Gregor made me his second is because I can divide personal shit from work. We have to work together and this is part of it. You need to project the right image, we both do. But you can't try and mimic your sister, your mother or any of those dried up old rich bitches. That is what these folks have suffered under, those rich cunts. Gregor isn't like that and he won't want you to be that way either. He likes you the way you are, so just touch up the image you already are. You don't need to be pretty, pretty doesn't fucking help anyone do the shit we need to do. Hey, when we land let's try the shopping thing again. I bet I know some better places for you and myself to spruce up. We are in this mission together so let's be friends, yeah? I won't harass you sexually and you give me the benefit of the doubt. Deal?"

Brat gave a tentative smile at him through the little bathroom mirror and nodded.

 

Fucking Jaime didn't want to listen to any assurances of revenge or any deals that could be made. Waif was able to slip inside the herb garden with Jaime but Gregor couldn't. He was at a fissure in the stone wall where Jaime could speak with him.

"I want to kill my uncle myself not be saved. Tommen is dead because of him and because of me. There is nothing further to discuss, Loras is doing your bidding, you don't need me. Do not ask me to kneel before the man and pretend to be grateful for him and his twisted religion. I can't do that anymore. Leave me be. I appreciate your trying to help but I can't assist you. You'll have to make do with Loras. I'm sure as soon as I kill Kevan I will be killed. Then one of these asshole disciples will take his place and continue his good fucking works. Luckily, you'll have Loras to help take down the rest of them. Good luck with that." 

Gregor swore that if it wouldn't raise to much suspicion he would order Waif to murder the fucking golden idiot then and there.

Instead, he watched as the man went back inside the stone temple to assuage his own guilt and grief. Waif leaped over the wall and Gregor caught her with a grunt. He squeezed her tightly until she winced as he began to creep back into the woods so they wouldn't be seen leaving the area.

"So..you made me come all the way here just to hear the golden brat say he won't help us. Waste of time. I think you just missed your Master. Lucky for you, I still have that collar on me. Fucking Jaime is going to get himself killed. Loras is smart enough to distance himself from that shit. I sent Brat and Joss to the Riverlands to get shit under control and set up defense. The other two shitheads should be joining them soon. So I have..for the first time, nothing to do and nowhere to be for at least eight hours. Yeah, I know you can't breathe and are going to pass out. Easier to get the collar on you that way, dear. You owe me one hell of an apology and I am going to make sure to use my eight hours hearing that apology."

He chuckled as she went limp and Gregor only stopped hiking long enough to put the collar on Waif. Gregor got back to the jeep in a clearing and made sure to tie Waif securely to the passenger seat before he started to drive to a small motel that was known for it's extreme privacy.

Gregor had managed to get his girl into the motel room, tossed the angry, squirming Waif onto the bed when his cell phone beeped. With a heavy sigh, he looked at the text then shut his eyes for patience. Waif stopped moving around and looked at Gregor expectantly.

"Piggy and Samara have run away, leaving a few injured and dead slaves behind them. Raff and Polliver are hoping to find them before the people or Aerys do. I'm texting them that they have three days to find the pets and get to the Riverlands. Now...I still have seven hours."

Waif looked fearful and lustful all at once and Gregor dropped the phone to go make that look grow bigger.

 

During the twilight hours, Piggy went back out and managed to steal some things. He was able to sneak through an open window of a nice little slave home. He felt bad stealing from someone like himself but they had no choice, they needed things to survive.

By the time the sun rose they were on the move, heading towards the bay area.

Samara had her hair tucked into a head scarf and wore a shawl over a long plain dress. Piggy was dressed like any other slave peddlers, allowed by their Masters to sell their wares. Both of them smelled of fish and therefore it was determined these slaves worked at the docks.

At the dock, Piggy can find a way for them to steal upon a boat or ship perhaps.

"We need to move and act like them, blend in. I need to not talk and you need to. No one knows your voice, they are looking for a mute rabid girl and a talkative boy. Talk, after all, we are on our own right now. We can hope to find Polliver and Raff but not here, it's not safe for us. Let's hop a boat and head for Brat in Riverlands. Our Masters will be angry, but not as angry if they knew we only ran to Brat. Come on, talk, I need to hear your voice. You can't talk with your hands, it will out you instantly."

"Won't our collars give us away?"

Samara's voice was timid as if expecting Raff to materialize with wrath for her words.

Smiling in relief, Piggy had hugged her.

"No. All slaves have collars. We have ours tucked in enough that no one can see who we belong to. I..thought about us removing them. Just for now until we get to the Riverlands. But we are in slave clothing still so.." He shrugged.

Samara lost her breath at the enormity of removing her collar. Already she missed her Master and the fear of how mad he is going to be makes her weak in the knees. The pain of an arrow wound and the miscarriage have made Samara slower and a tad more clumsy today.

Piggy held onto her arm as they tried to stay out of sight as they blended into the crowd of slaves heading to their various tasks or jobs. After a while he noticed they were attracting some looks and Piggy pulled Samara towards the back of a bathhouse where it was quiet.

"I was wrong. Ditch the collars, we have to hide them. These slaves all have fucking tattoos here. Dammit."

Samara whined pitifully as Piggy took her collar off and his own with a shudder. Their throats felt cold, exposed. Piggy shoved the collars into his pocket and then grabbed Samara's arm again.

"I know..it feels strange and awful and scary but we'll get used to it. Just not too used to it."

They began to travel behind old stalls and they saw the twinkle of sun reflecting off the water in the distance.   

 

"A slave home was broken into late last night near the bay. Clothing for a man and woman, painkillers, bandages and a hunk of bread, several water bottles were taken." Raff said as he dragged Polliver along the docks.

"Bet you anything they are going to try and stow away on a boat. The idiot boy doesn't know how fucking obvious he is. And your mute brain dead chickie is just going to blindly follow his lead. It will be a miracle if they made it to a boat without getting caught." Polliver muttered.

"Yeah, let's not give them the chance. I'd rather not add theft of boats to their list. My father is a reverse fucking Santa Claus, he is making his fucking list of violations and sins that we are going to pay for. Or our little idiots will pay for if Father finds them before we do."   

 

"Hey, look! Right there, just look."

Samara pointed to the drunk man staggering off of his raft. No one was looking that way and the man veered out of sight, fumbling with his pants to piss on the beach. Piggy took a deep breath and nodded. 

They flew for the raft and quickly dragged it into the water. Within seconds bells went off and the man among others were screaming about thieves and fugitives. Shoving the raft faster, the two managed to paddle crazily and get themselves out of reach. At least out of reach of those on the land. However, three boats were now heading at them and they could see no way to get past them.

"Shit! Can you swim? I hope you can swim." Piggy moaned and Samara responded by diving into the water.  They swam for a rockier part of shore that no one was near. Mainly all rock leading up to the pathway towards the city. Heading for it as fast as they can, both can hear the ruckus from a distance. They had no real chance and knew it but couldn't stop either. 

 

"Thieves! Fugitives! Those slave killers! In the water, shoot, shoot at them!"

Groaning, Polliver ran forward along with Raff to look over the wall.

"They thought they would swim back North? What the fuck are they doing?"

Raff started to climb over the wall and down the rocks. "We have to reach them before anyone else does. Don't let anyone else touch them or they might just outright murder them."

 

Gregor had managed to get an apology out of Waif and has been enjoying her punishment for three hours. The phone rang and growling, he went to answer it. Waif cried out in frustration.

Gregor has gone between strapping her, fucking her and strangling her. Bringing her to the edge over and over but never letting her come no matter how sorry she said she was.

He had finally been about to let her orgasm when the phone rang.

Cuffed to the bedpost, Waif couldn't do anything but wait while he answered the call. Near to tears, Waif tried to rub her thighs together and a large hand cracked hard across her ass. Shoving her legs open, Gregor shoved himself inside of Waif. He held her mouth shut and let her scream into his hand as he fucked her hard while listening to Olenna wail at him.

"The stupid boy signed over everything! Kevan couldn't wait to gloat and called me while he sent copies of the papers to me by messenger. Did you tell Loras to do that? He was to comply and behave to gain more freedom so you could take him out of there! He gave up all rights of estate and monies to Kevan. Everything becomes Kevan's once I die and how long will that be now? Loras just fucked me, Gregor. Deal's off."

 

 


	123. Oh, You Want Justice? That's Adorable.

Piggy had almost made it to shore when he saw Samara start to go down.

It was all too much on her body and she was too weak to keep swimming. Swearing, he grabbed onto her neck and pulled them both towards a large rock. He shoved her upwards.

"Come on, you have to climb, please! Samara, they are going to shoot at us! Those men in that boat have fucking guns, Samara, come on, you crazy fucking bitch, move!" 

Samara snarled but she clawed at the rocks and began to pull herself up while Piggy climbed behind her.

They ducked behind an outcropping and crawled out the other side. Instantly, the smaller rocks began to shift and they found themselves sliding down into seaweed, mud and sand. A shot rang out and Piggy cried out as shrapnel cut his cheek.

They finally came to a halt and found themselves on a ledge. Panting, Samara and Piggy clutched each other, trying to figure out what the hell to do next. Voices, harsh and angry came from above them.

"THEY KILLED OUR OWN, STONE THEM! FLUSH THEM OUT AND STONE THEM FOR JUSTICE!"

"Oh sweet gods, the slaves are coming down for us to stone us and the men in the fucking boats are shooting at us. We are dead, it's just a matter of which way to go. Do you want to be stoned or shot to death?" Piggy asked Samara who moaned.

"I want my Master. I don't want to do this anymore. Give me my collar at least...I want to wear it while I die. It will make me feel better."

Piggy snorted then blinked away tears.

"No. If we are going to die I will be damned if we do it wearing fucking collars. I don't mind living as Polliver's slave but I refuse to die that way."

Samara grabbed Piggy's hand.

"I don't want to be stoned to death, Hot Pie. Let's jump and either get shot or drown."

Piggy sobbed and nodded.

"I agree, Jeyne. Ready on three?"

 

Raff and Polliver had made it to the beach as the two pets had been swimming towards, just in time for the two to have climbed the opposite rock cropping. 

"Oh fuck me...how the fuck did they get over there? Ah shit, Raff, those assholes are shooting at them. Are those slaves climbing down with rocks in baskets? Son of a bitch, I'm gonna skin Piggy for this shit, I swear if he survives he wish he didn't."

Polliver continued to move as he grumbled, climbing towards the rocks they saw the pets go behind. Raff nearly screamed in frustration when he saw the two hurtle further out of reach in a small rock slide.

As they started to climb down towards the two on the ledge, hoping to reach them before rocks or bullets did, Raff was fuming.

"I want them on fucking leashes for at least a month! Maybe locked in tiny cages for a few weeks might help them too. I swear to the gods, they will NEVER fucking run again. I'm going to break both her fucking ankles."

Just then to their confusion and horror the pets jumped hand in hand off the damned boulder back into the water. Polliver roared then, shaking his fists while Raff bit his lip so hard blood came out.

"I give up! Fuck it! Let them get shot!"

Polliver hollered as he stomped onto the ledge and pulled out his gun. He turned and fired at the mob of slaves that just caught up.

"Want to try and stone us? Huh?"

The slaves turned and ran off. The shots drew the attention of both the men in the boats and the swimming slaves.

Raff made sure that every man saw who he was before he calmly began to climb down the rocks towards the beach again. 

Polliver waited an extra moment to stare down at the pets. He made sure both saw him and he slowly extended his arm and pointed to the beach. After he saw them begin to tiredly swim towards the shore did he finish climbing down towards the beach.

Piggy and Samara felt a mixture of terror and relief upon seeing their Masters on the ledge they just jumped off of.

Mostly Piggy carried Samara to the shore. Raff and Polliver were already there, waiting. The men in the boats had ceased firing upon seeing Viserys but they were rapidly heading to shore.

Crawling onto the sand, Piggy and Samara collapsed trying to catch their breath.

"Oh no, you don't get to stop there. Not after all this bullshit you put us through and not while those cocksuckers are watching. You are going to come to me and if you have any fucking sense at all in your head, you'll crawl. I am way past pissed, boy. Crawl and grovel, bitches."

Piggy flinched and looked up to see Polliver and Raff a few feet away. Polliver's eyes were ice and Raff was all fire. Samara whimpered and begin to crawl on her belly towards her Master.

"Do not open that fucking mouth of yours, Piggy. Just crawl and kiss my shoes in apology. I want everyone to see it. Now. You are so far down in the hole this time...don't make it worse."

Polliver's voice was as cold as his eyes and Piggy was terrified. He wanted Polliver to just rant and beat on him like he normally did. Mean insults and a harsh belt, anything but this stone cold impersonal fury.

The coward in Piggy rose fully to the surface. Sobbing, Piggy started to crawl forward and he pressed his lips upon the dirty boots. Samara did the same to her Master and this seemed to appease the crowd.

The slaves have all crept forward to watch but at a safe distance. The men were jumping off the boat and coming forward. Angry faces but most have left their weapons behind in the boat. None of them would dare fire upon Aerys's son. 

"You two are so very lucky we were here to save you. But I can assure you, dear heart, that the very second we are on the plane, I'm going to see to you. You have earned the dragon's wrath, Samara." 

Samara nodded and cried, but tried to hug Raff's ankles, to show how much she missed him and how sorry she was.

Piggy sniffed and looked up, way up it seemed to meet Polliver's steely gaze.

"Please, I'm so sorry! We had no choice!"

Polliver kicked Piggy in the side to knock him into the sand. 

"I said to shut your fucking mouth, didn't I? You can tell me all the fuck about it after I beat you until my arm tires. I am considering flaying a toe, Piggy. Another fucking word and it's not a consideration but a promise."

Choking back his pleas, Piggy lowered his head and cried before his Master's feet. This might have appeased some until Polliver caught sight of something. Raff hadn't noticed due to Samara's braid having fallen out, her hair was wet and messy covering her.  

In a voice so full of menace that Piggy thought instantly of Lommy and Gendry, Polliver asked a question.

"Where the fuck is your collar?"

Cowering lower Piggy tried to reach into his pocket for the collars but they must have floated away in the water.

"I..they were in my pocket..they must have floated away when we jumped." Piggy whimpered out and Polliver growled at him.

"Shock collar. You are getting a fucking shock collar until you can be trusted to have a regular collar again."

Raff moved Samara's hair and saw the bare neck. He spoke soft and low, making his girl whimper and tremble.

"Did you allow another person to remove your lovely collar? My symbol of ownership over you? Hmm? Did you decide to not be my good girl anymore? Listen to me carefully, my bad little girl. You will be as meek and obedient as you can, you do not want to risk making me any angrier, sweetheart."

As the men approached, the pets shivered and stayed cowering at their Masters feet.

"Viserys, we cannot allow this to go unanswered. They have injured, murdered and now robbed slaves. How will this look if we do not allow the slaves their justice? We can see they are not killed, but you must allow the victims some retribution."

Raff raised his voice so all could hear him.

"And if these two were slaves from our part of the world I would allow the type of justice you all seek. But Samara and Piggy do not understand the customs or the laws. Also, I don't believe that they would have killed or injured anyone unprovoked. They have never tried to run before and they clearly were not running from their own Masters. They could have evaded us but instead as soon as our pets saw us, they came to our feet. I do not believe they would have done what they did unless they felt they were in mortal danger. I have not asked them yet, but I will. In fact, let's all ask my father to meet everyone at the bay. We shall ask them together and I will see it is all cleared up before we depart. Call my father, he always loves a good show."

Polliver unbuckled his belt and Piggy flinched low and tensed for the blow. Yet deep inside, Piggy was grateful, sickly thrilled that Polliver would just beat him and get back to angry or taunting. Anything but this cold that was too close to his Master at his worst.

Instead of a whack, Piggy was yanked up to his knees by his hair then Polliver wrapped the belt around his throat and buckled it tight enough that Piggy had to struggle for a good breath.

"You are going to crawl up those rocks, up that rocky path and onto the walkway. I want silence and groveling, cowardly Piggy or I will beat him back out of you. What the fuck did you think you were doing, huh? Left your fucking phone behind. Told you to never put that down while we were here, didn't I? And you didn't try to scream for help? Didn't try to run back into the house, didn't think to use that fucking mouth of yours? You could have run into the village and screamed enough, showing your collar, think they wouldn't tell us or Aerys? Fucking moron. No, Piggy is braver now, he is training, gonna be a bad ass killer now, right? What do you need a collar or Master for, huh? Naw, you got it all under control, you had a great fucking plan. What were you going to do, swim home? Don't you fucking dare respond, you just keep fucking crawling. Go on, cry all you want, I don't care how scraped your hands and knees are getting. Whatever fucking happens, it's your own fucking fault, boy.

Piggy was feeling cowardly and his flesh was ripping under sharp rocks and burning sand. And yet that sickening relief was back because as Polliver growled at Piggy, his voice was less cold and more angry.

It was a bad anger, it was clear that Polliver felt disrespected and that was always very bad. But it wasn't the impersonal killer that might truly roast Piggy alive without more than a sick amusement on his face.

 

Waif showered blood and semen off her bruised, aching but so satisfied body.

She tried to hear the conversation on the phone, she could see Gregor pacing as he continued to try and deal with Olenna. Sighing, Waif knew it was useless, a dead end. Waif got out of the bathroom as Gregor threw his phone across the room.  

"We don't need her help anymore, Gregor. It doesn't matter. That was only a very small piece of things. Kevan will have her dead soon now and who cares if he absorbs Highgarden? We aren't going to use that as a main base it was only a little extra cushion we can live without. Keep our eyes on the bigger picture, remember? You are too used to relying on these high society cunts. Loras still is working for us, we can keep stringing him along. Hey, maybe Jaime will get lucky and take out Kevan. It would make our lives so much easier."

Waif laughed and Gregor snorted then he grabbed her by the throat.

He kissed her as if trying to eat her, leaving blood smeared across her mouth as he shoved her to the floor.

"I still have a bit of time left. I want a full massage, head to toe and a blow job at the end isn't going to be enough, girl. Get creative or I'm going to show you what a bit of ginger root can do for you."

 

Jaime bides his time, did everything he was told to and kept his eyes low, his mouth shut.

He managed to steal a very sharp cleaver from the kitchens. He waited for the right chance to come along. At one point everyday Kevan comes through the entire building with his men.

Checking to make sure things are all going the way they should. To stop and admire his own little empire. Stopping to speak with the different pupils and disciples, as if the benevolence must be acted out.

Jaime was polishing the brass lights along the hallway.

Kevan came up to him with a smarmy look and Jaime lunged. Instantly, Kevan pulled out a gun and shot Jaime in the hand, the cleaver falling to the ground.

"Oh, nephew, I am so very disappointed in you. I gave you a chance, I let you live, took you in and tried to save you. And just like every other member of our family, you betray me and can't repent. It is sad, you know. Loras might have done terrible things and has so much to atone for...yet, I found more loyalty in him than my own blood. He saw you take the cleaver. He could have said nothing or even tried to help you in hopes of my death or escape. Instead, the boy came to me on his knees and told me what you did. What you intended. Still, I will be fair. Tonight you will stand trail before everyone here and finally you will have no choice but to pay for your crimes."


	124. Fingering Lady Justice Till She Sings Pretty

In the Dragonlands, in the Riverlands, in the Northern lands, there were three different kinds of trials and not one of them ended without blood and tears. 

 

While they all waited for Aerys, the slaves stood in a half circle muttering in soft savage voices while staring hungrily at the pets then warily, angrily at Polliver and Raff. The men and other free citizens, most Masters themselves stood in the other half of the circle, fencing the four in.

They were clearly not pleased at how riled the slaves all were over this.

Raff and Polliver had climbed a small marble stage before a ornate fountain and pulled their pets after them. Piggy and Samara were truly at the end of their endurance and had no adrenaline left to rally with.

Samara laid her head tiredly upon Raff's boot, not caring that crusted sand was cutting into her. Raff narrowed his eyes and spoke softly, so that no one off the stage would hear him.

"Are you tired, hurting, dearest pet? Hmm? Look at you, bloody, covered in seaweed, dirt, and you are bleeding again. Everyone can see your dress turning red to show them your baby is gone. And to think I wanted to have a child with you! You didn't even attempt to reach me. You just started to kill and then blindly followed Piggy. You show me your love, loyalty and devotion by running away and removing your collar? You are a very bad girl and bad bitches have to learn, don't they? Bad girls get cages, they get pain, don't they? They have to earn trust and forgiveness."

Raff was relentless and Samara was sobbing, broken hearted. She started to try and kiss his shoes to beg forgiveness. How could he ever think she didn't love him? Samara whimpered and whined but he was not giving her permission to speak nor was he forgiving.

Piggy had to force himself not to growl, not to react to how cruel Raff was being to Samara. However, Polliver knew his little fool far too well and saw the tensing, saw the quick burning look in Piggy's eyes. Jerking the belt hard, Polliver forced Piggy's face to crash into the hot stone.

He put a boot on Piggy's head and the boy cried out as his cheek burned along with his ear.

"Even with your mouth shut you just can't stop digging that hole, can you? Did you get too much freedom from me? Was I maybe too kind, too easy on you? Maybe you should be treated more like these fucks, huh? Or just like pure fucking cattle..after all, you are a Piggy, right? I could just stop saving your ass, give up on you. I could sell you to them, you know. I could sell you to anyone or hell, let them stone you to death. Or just shoot you right between your Piggy eyes. Such a stupid beast. You can't even convince me that you are truly my groveling, cowardly Piggy. Because only an arrogant, spoiled brat would dare to even look up at anyone but their own Master in this situation."

It was the cold voice again and Piggy shuddered, not daring to even squirm. He panted in terror, unable to even plead beyond a long wordless whine.

"One more thing, anything at all, body language, a look, a pout or a single fucking word without permission. Go on, push me one fucking inch further. It's not a hole you are digging, boy...it's starting to look like a fucking grave."

Polliver removed his boot and Piggy didn't dare even move from his prostate position. He was trembling wildly and harsh sobs came out of him but he stayed still otherwise. Jerking upon the leash, Polliver got Piggy's attention instantly.

The look of pure animal submission and fear in Piggy's eyes helped to calm the ice in Polliver's eyes but only slightly.

"You have just displeased me and disrespected my best friend. What should you do now, you stupid fucking beast? And remember my warning about opening that fucking mouth."

Piggy came forward on his belly and kissed Polliver's boots in abject regret of his actions.

"Better. Now go kiss Raff's boot to apologize then crawl back to me."

Rushing to obey, to appease, it didn't even bother Piggy that a crowd watched him crawling and kissing boots. The taunts and threats hollered meant nothing to him.

The only thing that mattered to Piggy was getting that look and that tone to leave Polliver. He kissed Raff's boot and waited with his lips on the boot, eyes rolled up until Raff gave him a sharp nod.

Piggy crawled low back to Polliver and put his forehead low onto the stone before his boots.

"This is starting to look more like my Piggy. Look up at me, beast."

Piggy whimpered as his gaze timidly met his Master's.

"Look at that, it is my scared, stupid little Piggy, after all. You are going to keep proving to me and to everyone here that you are indeed just that. My dumb, fearful, cowardly little breathing property. You better fucking hope you can prove it to everyone, including Aerys. Speak of the pyro king, here he comes. Better get to your groveling, Piggy."

The voice was warmer but there was a dark cold threat just waiting beneath it. Piggy cringed low and curled around Polliver's leg similar to how Samara was doing to Raff. Rolling his eyes, Polliver spat in disgust.

"Get the hell off my leg!"

Aerys appeared and he smirked at the strange sight on the stage.

"You look like the worst cover of the worst trashiest romance novel."

 

Loras paced and bit his nails to the quick then nibbled at his delicate cuticles until they bled. He yanked his freshly cut curls in frustration. He had no counsel, no one to speak with about what to do.

No grandmother or sister to tell him what to do next. Waif was gone and Loras couldn't exactly get counseling here. At least not the kind that would help.

Hanging his head low, Loras tried to think for himself without any drugs or guidance for the first time in a very long time. Jaime would rat him out during the trial..he was sure of it. Loras knew that as soon as his grandmother heard of the signed papers, she would abandon him.

That didn't matter to Waif, right? She would be back for Loras, right? Or maybe not. Maybe without Jaime the deal is off and they lied to him. His mind whirled and Loras finally made a decision. The trial was starting in an hour, Loras flung open his door and started to run down the hall.

Suddenly, Karl appeared at the end of the hallway.

"Hey! Do not run, you know better than that, bitch!"

Loras flinched at the new private name they used for him when Kevan was out of earshot.

"I'm very sorry, please. I..please Brother Karl, I need to speak with our holy leader. Please, it is an emergency and I truly need his guidance and mercy."

With a smirk that had nothing holy or pious in it, Karl shook his head. 

"He is busy. I'll tell you what, you go like a good slut into the storage closet with me and I'll let you see him after."

Loras sobbed in frustration. "But I-"

Karl's flat shark eyes fixed hard on Loras's and he strolled closer, pulling his baton out to tap it on his hand.

"But you...what? Do you need to confess, have you done something bad, Loras? Or do you have something so much more important things to tend do than my needs?"

Loras despised himself as he dropped down to his knees, hugging his arms and shaking his head.

"No, Brother. I..I only meant to suggest my own room for privacy. I would be honored to serve you."

All he could do was hope there would be time before the trial starts to speak with Kevan. He could pray that  Karl kept his word but he knew better than that.

 

Joss grinned at Brat's new look and knew the helpless ladies and children of the Riverlands would hate and fear her on sight. Dyed black spiky hair with liberal swatches of blood red tipping the ends. Her Gothic makeup, all the piercings and tattoos he talked her into, it was perfect.

For all her toughness, Brat was still a teenage girl and Joss was the only person around to influence her right now. Joss was planning on playing the big brother to her until he can play secret savior to the poor Riverland ladies. It would take little but whispers of caution to the suffering folk. He would play them all against each other until Gregor shows to see how his new daughter failed him.

Until he received a second call. This was the same terrified slave, reporting that the pets were found by their Masters who were demanding a public meeting with Aerys. The pets were going to name all involved and only Aerys will come out of that unscathed. Joss was pissed. Every plan he makes gets fucked over by someone.

It wasn't the anger of Polliver or Raff that upsets him. They cannot truly disable or kill him, though what they did last time was unforgivable. What angered him was that they will be allowed to do such humiliating things with Gregor's own blessing. And if Gregor is annoyed enough over the pets almost getting killed he might give Joss a closer look in a bad way.

Gregor might discover that it was actually Joss that had nearly driven their Southern operation bankrupt. He might find out that the thief and mole in his organization was his own second in command. As soon as Joss had started to figure out that Gregor never going to give Joss the true recognition he deserved a few years back, he started to make a profit off him.

It was time to leave before things got too messy. Joss knew Gregor's resources were too small still to spend time hunting for him. At least not until Joss already had found safety. And he would need that safety considering Joss was about to exact the last bit of revenge he could for now.

Brat was waiting for Joss to finish up in the tiny car rental office. She never saw it coming.

 

Aerys stood fuming as each of the cowering beasts accused him of trying to have the boy sold and the girl killed.

The girl was the worst with the bulging eyes and her rusty voice.

"Joss paid Aerys to sell us but when Aerys heard I was pregnant he told the slaves to kill me instead."

"I will not entertain such slander against me. Your friend did ask me to sell your pets and I refused him. Apparently, this is how desperately hated your pets are that my slaves acted with your buddy Joss. I will have the slaves involved stoned and I shall leave your friend to you."

Raff nodded. "Oh, I shall be certain to have a word or two with Joss, Father. I think it's best if we left today, don't you?"

The rage in his eyes clashed into his father's remorseless ones.

There was no way for him to exact any revenge upon his own father beyond simply leaving him again. They needed to leave, the crowd was angry on all sides as now Aerys had not just allowed the two pets to escape justice but the slaves would have to stone those they saw as heroes.

Masters were trying to whisper angrily to Aerys who ignored them to glare at his son before nodding.

"You shall have an escort to my private jet. The next time you visit, I suggest it is without your Northern friends and pets."

Raff knew that his father wouldn't be able to prevent a riot and he wanted to be long gone before they could get taken down by it. He bit his tongue and gave a half bow to his father.

Polliver and Raff had to nearly drag their crawling pets out of fear that the growling crowd might shoot or tear them to bits.

 

Brat woke up to Joss's voice arguing with another. The last thing she remembers was taking an offered water bottle from Joss and now this. She struggled in her bonds and tried to no avail to push the gag out of her mouth.

"This is fucking highway robbery! She isn't worth that much money!"

"Dude, you are asking me to sell Gregor's adopted kid. You are fucking lucky I don't ask for more! Take it or leave it."

"Fine. Fucking robber. Here."

She heard Joss leave and she started to try and push herself upright as the other voice came into view.

"Look at you, all spitting mad like some little punk kitten. Calm down, I won't hurt you. I am going to untie you and you can go right out the door. I have my money and I'll have Raff all happy with me for cheating Joss and saving you. Whatever makes Raff look good, gets me more perks."

Brat stayed still while the man untied her.

"Thank you. Uh, he took my weapons..and..everything I had."

With a smile the handler peeled some bills off the roll Joss gave him plus lent her a gun and knife.

"Hey, let Raff know I lent those to you, he'll maybe let me get some new weapons."

Brat found it absurd to feel fond of this man knowing what he does for a living but given the circumstances, she hugged him.

Racing out the door, Brat knew it was wrong to leave the Riverlands undefended, but she was in hunting mode. She will get to the task Gregor gave to her, right after she dealt with Joss.


	125. Tag, You're It!

Raff listened to Brat on the phone and smirked.

"Yeah, I'm fine with it. We are already on the jet and heading for Riverlands now. Go ahead and take your time, I'll text my handlers and have one of them catch up with you. Joss is a dangerous and slippery fuck, you'll want the extra hands. Make sure that he understands this doesn't just come from you, tell him its a revenge groupon. We can handle things until you or Gregor returns."

Polliver looked up, scowling.

"She gets to have the hunting fun? While we have to just make a fucking moat and babysit villagers. Dammit. Another fault I am laying at your door, Piggy."

He kicked at the cringing boy who was still nursing his four broken toes and his bruised back.

"Get me a drink and you better move faster than that. You drop that drink with all your clumsy lurching and I'll break the rest of your toes and your ankle too."

Piggy pressed his lips together to keep from crying out as he moved clumsily towards the wet bar. Turbulence nearly knocked him into the aisle.

Raff hung up and grinned at Polliver.

"Yeah,  Joss tried to sell our slaves...but still, they are only slaves. The idiot tried to actually sell Brat...an equal. That is the bigger offense and she deserves the revenge. Besides we have to get the credit for all the shit she and Joss have abandoned. And our pets will need the extra training time we can give them. Clearly, they have been neglected."

Raff's voice got sweeter as he lifted his bleeding girl back into his arms from the floor where he left her while he used the phone. Samara cringed and sobbed as he cooed at her and picked up his well used flaying blade.

"Poor little girl. All that time growing your finger and toenails back. Then you had to go and be bad, making me have to take them out and extra skin besides. Now, give me your other hand, we still have a few nails to go, don't we?"

With a dreadful keening sound, Samara offered her trembling hand to her Master as she smothered her screams in his shirt.

 

Gregor and Waif went silently about the different meeting points they had set in the North.

Every available worker of Waif's and any of Gregor's men that had survived the Southern headquarters attack met them. They assured them that all bottled water, all non perishables were bought up at every available store and market.

Once it was sent in trucks towards the Riverlands did Gregor begin to breathe easier. Luckily, few took any notice, most were either at the golden boy's trial or were too relieved to be left alone thanks to the trial.

 

Jaime had more fun watching Loras sweat and squirm in tormented suspense than he did in planning his uncle's murder.

Too bad the planning led to nothing more than this fake justice. So far it was nothing more than Kevan giving a two hour speech while Jaime knelt in chains before them all.

A tearful speech of the betrayal and sinfulness of Kevan's family.

A speech that painted only Kevan as the savior denied, betrayed and forced to commit harsh crimes in the name of holiness.

Jaime openly yawned four times but each time Breinne hit him harder for the offense and he gave up after spitting out a second tooth. Smirking with bloody lips at Loras, Jaime wondered if Kevan would ever shut up long enough to rat the junkie boy out.

 

Raff and Polliver found the main Frey house full of wary looking women and children, staring with hard faces.

Apparently, the first to enter their home were the slave handlers loyal to Raff and the slaves that didn't belong to his father. However, it was a bad first impression.

Then handlers had rushed the slaves into the servants quarters, made sure they soothed the ladies that they were not about to be enslaved.

The smartest of the men made a good show out of letting the slaves eat well and saw none of them were struck at all while working.

This was the group of slaves that built Gregor's cottage and served in the Lannister home. They were very well behaved and meek, therefore none required painful incentive to work.

Raff was good looking and had a charming smile with a soft voice.

Polliver might have been a bit overbearing but he had a rough charm similar to what the ladies were used to from their own menfolk.

Of course the sight of Piggy and Samara, bandaged and bruised entering at their Master's feet was a bit nerve-wracking.

"These are our personal slaves. They see to our needs, they also will prepare all our meals and drinks. As it will take you a bit of time to trust we won't hurt you, it will take us time to trust you not to poison our food or hurt us. So I will promise you that we are not here to create more slaves, rather to use the ones we have already in service here. And you will promise not to interfere with our pets or our food. Our pets can cook for all of you or if you'd feel safer, you may prepare and serve your own. We are going to learn to get along with each other, you'll see."

In spite of the pets, when Raff smiled, the desperate and afraid ladies smiled back.

The pets were locked in their Masters rooms to unpack their items while Raff soothed the Freys and Tullys. Polliver had run to a nearby few stores with a list created by himself and Raff.

If the pets had seen the smile on his face as he shopped, they would have been terrified.

 

Joss had made it halfway to Highgarden to visit his favorite silent partner. Brat waited impatiently for Raff's man to catch up then she managed to track Joss down. He had stopped at a gas station.

She enjoyed puncturing the tires on the rental car while he was flirting badly with a stoned cashier. Not half as much as she enjoyed his face when he saw her pointing a gun at him.

"Tag. You're it, bitch." 

 

Loras was sweating, ready to vomit. Jaime was baiting him, letting him know that the second Kevan shuts up, he will accuse him.  Of course, Loras didn't expect the man to be a gentleman and just accept death. Loras wouldn't either.

Karl gave a slight nudge with his baton and Loras straightened up. A flash of something in the window seemed to momentarily blind Karl. Loras frowned and stared out the window.

He grew up around Tyrells, Lannisters, he got rifle lessons from Polliver when they were both high as kites once in their teens. Loras started to hyperventilate and he couldn't stay quiet now because-

"OH GODS, LOOK! THEY ARE GOING TO KILL US, THEY KNEW HOW JAIME WOULD REACT, KNEW AND OH THEY FUCKED ME TOO!"

Kevan gave a mighty frown to the hysterical boy ruining his trial. Karl started to beat Loras who continued to scream.

Jaime's eyes suddenly widened as he also saw the twinkle from the window. 

 

Gregor yawned as if bored, stretched.

"Well? Did they see the flash of your scope yet?"

Waif nodded.

"Good. It's been what, twenty seconds, it's enough fair warning."

Gregor pressed the button on the box he held in his hands. The detonations placed by Waif's children were not only set to bury the chapel and Kevan's other properties. They were also set to destroy all local emergency services and any area above middle class.

The hot air buffeted the two of them as they watched the North go down.

 

 


	126. Pay Your Price

"Excessive."

Polliver swung around and kicked Piggy flat to the ground.

"What was that? Did you just open your fucking smart ass mouth? Say it again. Go on, no, too late to shut up now. You want to dig, go on and work on the hole. What did you fucking say?"

Swallowing hard, Piggy climbed back to his knees.

When Piggy and Samara were called to the kitchen after the ladies and children had all gone to bed, he was resolved to be as behaved as Samara herself. He already has blown it.

Both had kept their eyes and heads low, silent and groveling. A slave handler that was also a nurse practitioner came in and worked on Samara for some time. Raff offered no comfort but he allowed Samara to go into herself.

The man assured Raff that with no undue activity her stitches will heal just fine and that there is no sign that Samara was rendered sterile. Raff grabbed Samara's hair and yanked her head back so she was giving him her full attention.

"Maybe when you have become a good girl worthy of my affection I'll let you breed. You are so very sorry, I know you are, little girl. A bad girl that wants so badly to be forgiven. Kneel down next to the boy, Samara. Show me how good you can be and I will be that much closer to forgiving you."

Sniffing, kissing at his hands, Samara obeyed and Piggy was damned if he was going to be acting up. He was determined not to bring anymore angst down upon his own head.

 They knelt as Polliver dumped a bunch of items out of a bag that made Piggy's eyes go wide. 

With a malicious grin Polliver dumped dog dishes for food and water on the ground.

"Hers are probably permanent, Piggy, but yours will be used whenever you forget that you are just my little bitch."

Piggy had only nodded as he noticed Raff whisper to Samara that hers were indeed permanent. Even when Polliver pulled out leashes, Piggy winced but stayed quiet. 

Polliver held out two collars.

"These are your new shock collars, same as the leashes, they remain until you have learned your lesson. These other nicer collars can be earned as your permanent ones."

Piggy whimpered a little but he remained silent and accepting. He eyed the shock collar with trepidation but what he saw next finally made him burst out that word.

Polliver had dropped the tattoo kit on the table but within view of the slaves.

"I won't ask you to repeat yourself again, Piggy."

Cringing at the menacing tone, Piggy tried to carefully answer.

"Sorry, Master...I said..excessive. It's just you don't need to...brand me! I won't try and run again, I didn't mean to run from you in the first place! That was never what we meant to do, we only wanted to keep the others from killing us!"

Polliver kicked Piggy onto his side again.

"Knees, now! Did you keep your phone on you like I told you to? Did you try and scream, or at least attempt to get any help or attention? No. You didn't."

He kicked Piggy back onto his side harder.

"Knees! Did you rip off your collar and Samara's? Steal to disguise yourselves and head for a FUCKING BOAT TO WESTEROS?"

Polliver kicked Piggy back down again.

"KNEES! You ran. You took off your collar. All because you didn't obey my orders in the first place. So now you can wear my sign of ownership on your skin in case you decide to ignore the one on your neck again."

A last kick and Polliver snarled down at his sobbing boy.

"Anything else you want to add? Anymore excuses or comments, Piggy?"

Piggy shook his head.

Polliver took his time marking the pets stomachs with their names in block letters. Raff wrote Property of and their respective Masters names on their backs in flowing script.

Samara whined and Piggy whined enough that Polliver and Raff were trying to decide who was loudest.

"They think this is bad....you should have bought actual brands. They have no idea it could be. Though actually, my girl should know, she has seen my other slaves. She should know damn right well how much better she has it than many others."

Samara whined in pain and a groveling assent. She knows how lucky she is, knows how close she has come to losing her Master's love. Never again, there is nothing Samara wouldn't suffer to make her Master happy with her again.

"Oh yes, a few last things I forgot to bring in. Piggy, let's try that shock collar and leash on. We have a few things left in the car I'll need you to carry in for me."

 

Raff lifted up Samara and cuddled her in his lap, checking her color and pulse.

"I'm going to let you rest and have some soup. Since you have been trying very hard to be good again, I'm going to let you have some medicine and sleep soon."

Samara sobbed gratefully and weakly nuzzled her Master who finally gave her a small smirk back.

"Oh, don't look so sad, pretty bitch. Your Master is forgiving you. But Samara, you don't ever want to release the dragon, you know how dangerous that is. You make mistakes like any scared weak thing like you can't help but make. But to run or remove your collar? That is defiance, that is being a bad girl on purpose. You never want to do that again, sweet girl or I might not be so loving and merciful next time."

 

Piggy followed on his hands and knees until Polliver stopped at the front door. He tried not to be bothered by the bulky and uncomfortable collar on his neck, made worse when Polliver tugs at the leash.

Polliver stopped and gestured to the door.

"Go on, open it and head out into the driveway."

Piggy nodded and stood up, grasping the doorknob. Suddenly, pain, zapping, making him fall to the floor, convulsing. Scrabbling with his hands at the collar, Piggy squealed.

"Bad Piggy! No door knobs for you! No exits, no closed doors opened by you!"

Waiting with a dreadful cold patience, Polliver let Piggy recover then he adjusted the power of the collar slightly lower.

"Open the door and head out, Piggy."

Shaking his head fast, Piggy hugged himself and stayed on his knees.

"I don't open doors, I don't go out exits, Master!"

"Smart Piggy."

Polliver opened the door and stepped out, tugging on the leash. Piggy stood and stepped over the threshold only to hit the ground writhing again.

"Did I say you could stand up?"

"Sorry Master, I'm sorry."

Piggy cowered low and this time watched carefully to make sure he correctly interprets what Polliver wants him to do. He crawled across the gravel without a sound, staying right where his Master wants him to be.

When Polliver opened the trunk and Piggy saw what was in the trunk, it was with great difficulty that Piggy remained silent. He was wary of another shock.

"What, does my little smart ass have nothing to say? Hmm? No? Well, how refreshing is that. Now carry these cages and dog beds into the house. You can stand to bring everything inside. Don't bother crying over your broken toes and heavy boxes, you are the one who wanted to stand and walk so badly."

 

Joss had been so focused on Brat and her gun in his fucking face, he didn't see the man come from behind. He felt the prick in his neck. There was just enough time for him to swear then everything went black.

Now he was trying hard to move, to see, everything was so blurry and dizzy. He started to vomit and felt hands turn his head to the side to vomit. After the bile spilled and Joss laid his head back, the world began to clear up.

He tried again to move after the hands went away and he found he was restrained.

"Stop struggling, you look like a praying mantis trying to escape the dissection of a curious teenager. You know, actually, I suppose this is kind of like that. Yeah. Here, I 'm going to let you have some water, just a few sips."

Joss hated that he needed Brat's help, that he needed to sip the water but he did it.

His arms and chest were wrapped tightly with leather straps and ropes. The real horror was that his legs were spread wide open, one leg lashed to each small polar tree. He saw they were in a makeshift camp deep in the woods.

"No one is around if you want to scream. You'll be screaming soon enough but I was kind enough to provide you a leather belt to bite on. It will help with the pain, I bet. You see, my buddy here, Raff's prized handler, he has been teaching me some interesting new things. Such as how they break some of their randier, more spirited male slaves. They geld them. And since our own code won't allow me to kill you, I sure as hell want to hurt you. I'm sick of watching you hurt my friends. Piggy isn't yours, Gilly wasn't yours, none of your victims deserved what you did. So this is for them. I'm gelding you, Joss."

Joss screamed and nearly bit threw the leather they wrapped around around his head. Carefully, slowly, Brat followed the handler's exact instructions. Joss didn't pass out until he saw Brat lift up his severed penis and that was when the world went away.

When he came back to, he was in terrible pain, Brat was still between his legs and he could feel her applying pressure to his wounds. Grinning, the handler was lifting something from a small campfire.

"Raff uses this method whenever he doesn't have a doctor around. It's brutal but efficient."

Joss only saw the glowing metal for a moment, then the pain became a brilliant light that burst through his entire body and sent his brain into the cosmos.

"Ah, there you are, I was starting to worry. Jorah said this was common after being castrated and cauterized but I did worry. Good. Oh, stop twisting like that, you'll ruin it. Stop screaming at me, Joss, I'm almost done. Just another few more strokes of my blade...perfect. Here, I'm going to show you...I made sure we stopped at a pharmacy and bought this nice large mirror just for you. Your favorite color, blue, see? Oh, and we have creams and antibiotics, bandages, you'll be all set. But before Jorah dressed your sore new little pee pee, I want to make sure you see it. But first, I want to explain that I am not a professional so it might be a little messy. Luckily, my hands were quite steady upon your chest."

Brat was positively jovial as she put away her blade after cleaning it and flourishing out the mirror from a backpack. Jorah smirked and carefully cleaned the excess seepage of blood around the word she carved into the cadaverous chest.

Joss looked at the mirror in horror as it reflected his chest back at him.

Deeply carved was the bloody word. BITCH.

The mirror moved and Joss began to curse, spit and scream, shaking in his bonds. His groin was a thing of nightmares. Charred flesh, some stitched flesh as if a Frankenstein job. His balls are gone, his penis is gone and left is a slit to piss out of.

Brat and Jorah laughed as Joss ranted, then sobbed.

Once he finally tired himself out, Brat leaned over him with a grin.

"Now, that is the end of the revenge of all of your sexual victims. The rest is from myself for trying to sell me, from Polliver and Raff for trying to sell their slaves. So this part is from all of us. Jorah is going to take you to your very first slave auction. You'll have the same chance you thought myself, Piggy and Samara would have had. You know, to somehow get found or escape being sold. So, let us know how that works out for you. We all know that there isn't anyone willing to rescue you so I guess you'd better start really learning how to escape cages and chains."

Brat gave a sweet smile that looked terribly out of place on her Gothic, sharp face. Her voice was so smooth and careful that Cersei, Margeary and Sansa would have killed her out of jealousy upon hearing it.

"Enjoy your adventure, bitch. You've earned it. I'll see you in three years or so when you spoon tunnel your way out of some fat fuck's basement, wearing a Hello Kitty butt plug and a bib that says 'Daddy's Good Fuck Baby'. Bye, Joss."

"I'LL FUCKING GET YOU, DO YOU HEAR ME? I WON'T FORGET OR FORGIVE YOU, DO YOU HEAR ME, YOU FUCKING LITTLE CUNT? I'LL COME FOR YOU FIRST AND YOU THINK MY COCK WAS THE ONLY THING I COULD USE TO FUCK SOMEONE? YOU'LL FIND OUT, YOU LITTLE BITCH! COME BACK HERE, COME BACK, DON'T YOU DARE LEAVE ME HERE! BRAT! BRAT! BRAT! COME BACK HERE! BRAT, DON'T YOU FUCKING WALK AWAY FROM ME! BRAT!" 

 

 

 

 


	127. Busy Bee Day And Demi-Gods

The house was quiet, the windows were beginning to grace the house with the first weak light of morning.

Piggy and Samara lay curled in their cages. A shifting, uneasy sleep that is fueled with nightmares for their minds to dismiss the pain of their bodies enough to rest.

Raff and Polliver were sleeping the sleep of innocent angels, tangled in their sheets and blankets.

Suddenly, Raff's phone began to explode into Mac The Knife. Samara nearly leaped and whacked her head hard on the top of the wire cage. Whining, she shrunk low to her stomach while rubbing her sore head.

Polliver's phone began to shriek Here Comes The Boom and while he mindlessly searched for the phone, Piggy groaned and grabbed the bars to stare out pleadingly at Polliver.

Both men looked at their messages from Gregor and nearly killed themselves to get out of their beds.

Polliver unlocked the cage and as he caressed the button of the shock collar, Polliver carefully watched how Piggy acted. The boy wasn't stupid and knew not to dare push Polliver in any way right now. He crawled out low and kissed Polliver's foot.

"Thank you, Master. May..may I use the bathroom before I make your coffee and breakfast?"

"Yeah, in a minute. Listen so very fucking carefully to me. You are on probation, little Piggy. Today is going to be a very busy day. And I need MY good Piggy to do a huge amount of cooking today. I want bread, chili, soup, stew, fucking casseroles whatever we can use for the refugees from the North. We are setting up a relief for them, compliments of Gregor. So I am going to allow you to have the run of the kitchen. I can't give you a leash long enough for the whole kitchen. So I am going to TRUST you to cook everything I ask and fucking BEHAVE."

 

Raff used the bathroom, showered, dressed fast then knelt before the cage.

Silent but for a whimper and Samara crept to the cage door and bumped her head into it gently. Smirking, he opened the barred door and gestured for her to come forward. He patted his knee to encourage her.

Samara crept forward, going even lower as she squirmed her way out of the cage.   

Cooing in a voice that wasn't the sweet bad voice, it was one that was warm and just for her. Eagerly, Samara crawled forward to kiss Raff's polished shoes.

"There is my good girl. Settle down, I forgave you."

Chuckling, Raff had to stand up and gently shove her head away from his shoes.

"Today is a very busy day, my pretty bitch. I am going to need your help, sweet girl. Would you like to help your Master?"

Samara nodded so hard her neck made a cracking sound.

"Good girl. I knew I could count on my loyal and obedient bitch. I want you to help Piggy do a huge amount of cooking. The North needs our help. I am going to allow you to move without your leash in the kitchen, in the house for today. You will fight with no one, speak with your little language to Piggy all you wish, but I want your work done. The slightest mistake today and you will surpass the leash and go straight to a chain around your ankle. It wouldn't be hard for me to put a bolt for your long chain in each room. But my little good girl won't fail me, will you?"

 

Piggy came out of the bathroom and Polliver was standing there with yet another fucking bag. Forcing himself not to sigh or roll his eyes, Piggy came forward.

"I also got you some new clothes since those fishing outfits are kind of interesting. Now here is your new uniform, boy. Look, I even gave you choices. Now you can actually choose what you wish to wear. Isn't that freaking generous of me after what you did?"

Piggy quickly agreed and thanked Polliver while staring down at the clothing.

Bile green crocs for his feet were ugly but welcome for Piggy's poor abused soles. Three pairs of underwear.

One pair of Avengers underwear that had Hulk nearly exploding out of the crotch area.

Another pair that were pink polka dots and orange streamers as if they were stolen from a circus clown.

The third pair had white cotton that stretched faces of the Muppets staring out eerily upon nothing with mad cotton happiness.

Piggy wondered where the fuck Polliver shopped and grimaced at the rest of his clothing choices.

A pair of shorts that went to the knees that were so florescent blue that it hurt Piggy's eyes. A pair of jogging pants that were bright yellow and one pair of jeans that looked utterly normal.

"Those jeans are something to be earned, boy. I have acknowledge how much weight you've lost. So I figured this might be a good incentive for you, something to work towards, Piggy. Now look at your shirts then go shower and get dressed. You have fifteen minutes."

Piggy grabbed the shirts and groaned at them. One was a glaring orange sweatshirt with a picture of a happy pig face across the front of it. The other was a t-shirt that was electric blue that also had a picture of a pig. 

Sighing, Piggy reached out and grabbed the shorts, Avengers underwear and t shirt, grimacing.

 

Brat had thrilled to Joss's enraged and panicked screams as she nearly skipped out of the woods.

She was struck with an idea and laughed aloud. To have gotten revenge was so fun, so sweet, the blood and power of it was a rush. No wonder the men acted the way the did, it really was like being a demi-god. While waiting for her Uber, Brat made a few quick calls.

After receiving the confirmation she was hoping for, Brat giddily called Jorah.

"Hey! Listen, don't bother bringing Joss to some auction or whatever. I found a buyer for him. Of course, I offered him at a very cheap price, after all this girl can use any help she can get. I'm texting you the address now, it isn't very far from where you are."

A moment of silence then Jorah spoke hesitantly.

"I'm not sure about this, Brat. Raff told me to drop him at this really shitty human kennel that has pretty bad security at the best of times. I think the idea is that he will have to find his way out. It's all part of the prank, right? I mean, it's a fucked up revenge but from what I understood, this was the end of it. I'm surprised you got Raff to agree to let you castrate him."

"Yeah, well, he trusts me. Apparently more than you do. Come on, it's just a little last part to the joke. We are selling him to a girl who is disabled who needs a strong back. He can get a little humility by serving before he manages to run away. Nothing wrong with that, right? Come on...I'll give you half of what I sold him for."

"Fine. But if I get in trouble for any of this...you are going to owe me and I always collect."

Brat smiled as her ride pulled up and she got into the backseat.

"I understand how favors work. If this goes sideways for whatever silly reason, I promise I will take the full responsibility of it.  And I'll owe you one favor. Now go deliver Joss to his next home."

 

He was cramped, he was on fire, he was freezing, he was burning as sweat dripped all over his skin. It was a fever burning through him and Joss would scream to the darkness. Curled up into a small wooden box, hands and ankles bound together.

Joss had to keep himself calm in order to breathe. Logic didn't help and he thrashed causing himself enough pain that he started to vomit upon himself. Bile burned deeply into the freshly carved word on his chest and he wept.

Trying to breathe through spit, snot and vomit, Joss fled into his own mind. He had to escape the smell, the horror and the unending sense that he has lost control for the final time.

Just like Alice jumped into the rabbit hole, Joss rolled his eyes back in his head and was gone. He saw the largest hawk and went into it. They flew through the sky and dove through clouds, the world leaking away underneath him, unimportant and insignificant.

Then the hawk decided to dive downwards in a spiral and rushed towards the ground at a dizzying, fatal speed. Joss felt a thud and found himself pecking at a window.

_It was an old place that he knew very well. Inside was a twelve year old version of himself tinkering with a vending machine._

_It was a great con that Joss latched onto as soon as he had his first janitorial shift at this home for disturbed youth._

_He would fuck up the vending machine so it wouldn't release the item except halfway. When he mopped the lunch room it was just before the other students were allowed out for meals._

_Meals were the only time they were allowed to use the vending machine._

_And the tokens for the machine were hard earned here. Joss would disable it just before meals so the students would stand here, use their token then have to give Joss two more tokens for him to release the item to them at a later point that day._

_He would repair the machine after the meals so that the guards could use the machine without a problem._

_The employees, whether teachers, counselors or guards were not adults you messed with. Not a single worker in this facility has a problem with getting hands on with their charges._

_The worst one was Gregor Clegane. He was a huge motherfucker and only seventeen but was a damned mountain._

_That is what everyone called him, from his peers to the inmates. He has lived and dominated every type of institution throughout the South and was a fucking legend._

_They had transferred him here to the North to give him a shot at working as a guard. It was obvious to the courts that they can only keep him this last year. The only way to keep him from returning to a life of crime was to make sure he had a leash. So it was decided that Gregor would start a work program being a guard.  
_

_Since he got to the ward, he has already won two awards for employee excellence. Gangs were broken up, contraband was found and it's way in was destroyed. The rise in student fights dropped to merely normal child activity level and the upper courts were thrilled. No one asked nor checked to see how these miracles were happening._

_They had some accidents at first, some fatal and most of the students spent an obscene time in medical. There was still some contraband and cons like the kinds that Joss runs but Gregor gets his cut and doesn't care. Joss has been careful to never do anything to get on Gregor's bad side._

_Joss gave up information willingly on others to save himself the torture that Gregor seemed to love so much. He snitched on several drug dealers, on anyone that didn't deal with him. Gregor began to use him as an informant and a spy. This was fine with Joss who enjoyed moving up._

_The counselor that Joss was assigned to made him pick a hobby._

_"I'm not letting you sit in your fucking bed and jack off to your little rapist mind all day. When you aren't working or schooling, you will have an activity. There aren't any little girls for you to rape here and we need to get your mind busy with something. Take that list and pick one, have the teacher sign off on it and bring it to me tomorrow. Or I pick it for you."_

_So Joss picked photography. He did well and enjoyed it immensely. Joss did pictures for their stupid school newsletter and yearbooks. He took pictures of the lake, birds, sunsets and sunrises. There were other pictures as well._

_Photos of violent rapes upon students by the adults in charge of them. Photos of students being tortured, students being murdered._

_Glossy images of boys swapping drugs and alcohol, kids injuring each other, raping each other, scurrying and cowering before the authority._

_Pictures of force feeding, rectal hydration, kids being starved and then exercised to death by a smiling Gregor himself. Images of Gregor speaking with Tywin Lannister. Interesting. And Joss kept clicking._

_Then finally Joss got the jackpot he was looking for. He finally managed to get something smuggled in he had wanted for awhile. A recorder. He took his pictures and the next time Tywin came, Joss had his recorder._

_It wasn't until Tywin left Gregor and was leaving the building that Joss was able to get close enough to use the recorder. Tywin was walking with some creepy guy named Locke that lisped annoyingly._

_Tywin was speaking almost musingly as they walked towards the large gates to freedom._

_"I want him, but you know how family ties work. The boy has no girlfriend, he killed his parents so the only thing he has left to hold onto is that brother of his. He might have done his very first bit of time for burning his brother's ear off but when Gregor was released that time, he didn't go after his brother again. When Gregor shot his parents for the insurance money, he could have easily killed Sandor. He didn't, he let him live. That little lost disfigured boy has already landed himself into the juvie system. I believe he resides at one of Kevan's torture homes for kids. Find him and kill him."_

_That night Joss knocked on the office_ door _and he forced himself not to flinch when Gregor loomed over him._

_"Stick bug, I'm going to squish you if it isn't important. It's after hours and you should be asleep. Not bothering me while I am trying to finish this fucking paperwork so I can go home."_

_Joss cleared his throat and then spoke. It took two times before his dry throat worked._

_"I..it's very important. Really, really important. And it is private, no one else can hear or see this. Please, Sir, it isn't a trick or a joke, I swear it."_

_Gregor yanked the boy into the small office and slammed the door shut. The large man nearly threw Joss into the seat before the steel desk. Gregor sat in the chair behind the desk, which creaked alarmingly but held._

_"You have five minutes. If my mind isn't blown within those five minutes then I'll be seeing you for early morning work outs for the next month."_

_Joss flinched at that._

_No one ever would willingly risk going to those work outs. They were a discipline for kids earning tickets for bad behavior. The exercise went on until the boys have sobbed, vomited or passed out._

_Kids that were stupid enough to complain, rebel or wimp out during this discipline were subjected to a rectal hydration or water boarding session. Joss forced his hands to stop shaking as he carefully pulled his folder and recorder out._

_He dropped the folder on the desk and Gregor looked through it._

_"I was going to try and blackmail you. Have a contact to media and was thinking to exploit it. Then I started to record, hoping to get something on the great and powerful Tywin Lannister. Then I heard this and decided to bring it to you."_

_Gregor had flipped through the pictures, impressed at the little shit's work._

_He heard Tywin give the order for his brother's death._

_"This was recorded three hours ago when he left. There is plenty of time for you to save your brother, I think."_

_Grabbing the phone to make a call, Gregor stabbed a finger towards the boy._

_"Stay and shut up, stick bug. If I save my brother in time, I'll speak to you. If it's too late, I'm going to rip you apart and throw your fucking limbs to the wild animals to eat and shit out."_

_Joss sat, terrified, sweating while Gregor made calls. He warned his brother who armed himself and escaped from Kevan's school. Gregor then called Tywin._

_"Deal is off. You tried to murder my brother so I'd work for you better? Leave the hardening of men and their souls to those of us who are good at it and know when it's needed. You want me to work for you, Sir? Then you stop trying to murder my brother and if you take me, he comes too. I want a room for myself and my brother. He can attend the local school until he graduates and joins your company. I will take full responsibility for him and I can assure you he will never again get in trouble with the law publicly. I don't care for my brother out of a sense of love, it is a sense of family name and loyalty. Something my fucking parents couldn't comprehend but I beat the concept into Sandor. You should understand this, Mr. Lannister."_

_Gregor won in the end and Joss had been so fascinated by it all that he forgot to be scared. He remembered too with a shiver when Gregor's eyes fixed on him._

_"What do you want, boy?"_

_"I want you to take me with you, train me to be like you."_

_"Tell you what. You finish out your year here and show me good behavior, good grades. Make sure that you continue to inform, spy, buy and sell as needed. I want that cut of it whether I am still here in Molestown or in Kings Landing. You find a way to get it to me. When your year is up, I'll try and have you fostered out in the South. I'll let you train to be my second, perhaps. You have a smart mind as long as you keep your urges and temper in check."_

The van jolted to a stop and Joss whined. Where the fuck did that bastard take him? Was he about to be dragged on some cheap wooden stage, naked and bloody, covered in vomit, his bloody groin for all to laugh at? Was he really about to be auctioned off like cattle?

Jorah opened the back of the van and climbed in.

"You are one lucky boy. Before I could even take you for a nice fun auction, Brat called me with a potential owner for you. A girl."

Joss squirmed, bit, fought but he was extracted from the cage. Jorah stood up and kicked the thin man several times until he was dazed. Then he lay still as Jorah pulled out a leash and a cattle prod.

"You are a fucking idiot. Look at you, you can't take much more or it's going to kill you. Now, I'm going to release your ankles and you are going to walk with me. Or I'm going to use this cattle prod to light you like a fucking Christmas tree."

Jorah dragged Joss towards a rather isolated little cottage, having to zap him twice for trying to run. The door of the cottage opened and Gilly smiled down at Joss.

The woman's smile was full of new teeth but her face was symmetrically wrong. Joss had broken delicate facial bones that were not able to be fixed to precision. At least not without years of more surgery. Gilly's left eye was blank, seeing nothing. She had seven surgeries.

Blood transfusions, dental and facial reconstruction. Her bowels needed to be repaired and she was sterile as a result of Joss's attentions. She stared at Joss and smiled slowly at the sight of the carved chest and the misery in the man's face.

"NO! DON'T LEAVE ME WITH HER! NOT GILLY! NO! SHE IS ONE OF WAIF'S FUCKING KILLERS AND SHE HAS A GRUDGE WITH ME! SHE WILL KILL ME, CALL RAFF! CALL HIM, THIS ISN'T RIGHT!"

"I've already sent the money into Brat's accounts. He belongs to me now. Just let go of the leash, let him try to run, I'd enjoy a good hunt."

Jorah was conflicted as Joss wildly thrashed and screamed. He was clearly terrified of this girl and even though she limped and was half blind, there was a grace there. And a darkness in her eye.

Jorah has met some of Waif's children before and this girl had the same movements and speech as the children.

He wasn't about to mess with her, he has heard stories of those that crossed them. Dropping Joss's leash, Jorah walked away, already calling Raff. He winced, ignoring the screams he heard behind him.

 

 


	128. The Joy Of Having New Friends

The kitchen was taken over by Piggy and Samara in seconds. Any servant of the home was terrified of them and their Masters and fled. Any ladies that wandered in clutched their children close and gave wary looks before leaving.

Some children came in without a parent and they were ignored by the working pets. Samara was in her glory with her hair back in front of her face. When one of the women haughtily mentioned something about servants using hairnets for sanitary reasons, Samara growled.

The woman fled and the children all watched from corners of the old huge kitchen. Pots boiled, Piggy ran back and forth throwing things in the oven, stirring huge pans and bowls. Samara chopped, peeled, whisked and stacked the dishwasher, plus scrubbed more pots in the sink.

When something was done, Piggy set it aside to cool slightly. Samara would cover it, package it and put it on the table for one of Raff's slaves to take it.

 

Three slaves of Raff's that weren't working on defenses were piling the massive amounts of food into a van and the handlers were driving it to three different locations for free food. The North was in bad shape and even their water source was somehow contaminated.

Raff rounded up all the Frey and Tully ladies with their fading glory and he dripped charm upon them. He explained that the North was in desperate need of charity assistance. Bashfully, managing an aw shucks look complete with a humble blush, Raff continued.

"Sad to say, I uh..for all my talents, I have never worked within charity. My mother did, she had all the society ladies create everything from grand balls, to media coverage, to donations of clothing and food. She was quite well known for it. Did I mention what my real name is?"

Within moments the women were no longer seeing themselves as dealing with some crazed but handsome slaver. They were now dealing with an equal, a gentleman of society standards.

And he was asking the ladies of Tully and Frey to take charge of a social miracle. Oh, to be the ones who ran the charities to help the poor Northern victims? All the coverage, the ball they could plan, oh so many things.

Raff explained what has already been done and allows the ladies to take over the more delicate, falsely compassionate part. 

Now the ladies have more vans moving, by nightfall the North was full of media. They were not just getting pictures of elegant ladies dressed down ladling soup. Or of unknown but helpful men and women that were tirelessly unloading vans full of emergency supplies.

 

Pictures of makeshift shelters built fast within buildings that now stood empty. And the main person that the media heard everyone talk about, the man they clicked the image of over and over...was Gregor Clegane. He was creating food, water and shelter for a North that rejected him.

Waif made sure to keep away from the media and mainly ran things from the shadows.

Gregor made sure each shelter was full of cots and blankets, while making sure everyone saw him do it. He personally spoke with and comforted many a victim, promising them he will help them rebuild, recreate.

Waif saw to it that no help would be forthcoming from any other source but Gregor. The South wanted nothing to do with any of it, terrified the rest of their social structure would fall next. She also heard an interesting thing from one of her girls to pass onto Gregor.

"Hey, Mountain man. Uh, your daughter has gone off the fucking chain. She castrated Joss and sold him to my Gilly for fifty bucks. He is still alive but it doesn't sound like Gilly is interested in giving him back."

 

As the women of the houses surged into action, the servants were all sent scattering with impossible demands. The children of both the servants and the ladies were taking refuge from the insanity. 

For a while a small group of children were discussing whether or not Samara was a person or a ghost. She was pale, hair in her face and very silent.

It was of interest as was Piggy with his strange clothing. The collars on both of them were a subject of discussion for quite some time.

Piggy and Samara found it amusing as they worked. Then the children started to bully one of the smaller ones.

"You shouldn't even be here with us, you are an embarrassment, a scandal! Your mother is just a parlor maid and your father is dead. Is it as gross to you as it is to us that your father was so old that he is MY grandfather? I mean, I'll be fair about it. Your mom is really a pretty woman, too bad you don't have her looks. But how much older was my grandfather from her? How desperate was she that she slept with a old man? You figure with all the gardeners, pool boys and stable guys, she would have found a better lay."

The little girl clenched small grubby fists.

"Don't talk about my mother, Wanda."

Samara watched out of the corner of her eye as the kids circled the angry girl.

"Your mother is a whore and a servant. So what does that make you?"

"You shouldn't be standing around just acting like you have the right to hang out here like we do! You should be working too! Put that sick riot of greasy curls in a hair net and start scrubbing pans! I think we should shave her head first, might have lice or cooties."

Suddenly, Samara loomed over them all and started to make a terrible growling sound that grew louder and higher pitched as she moved closer. The ringleader paled and stumbled back.

"You can't hurt or scare us! You are..not even a servant. Just a slave! I can have your Master whip you for insolence, I bet! I bet I can whip you myself!"

Piggy spoke from across the room, glaring at the children.

"I wouldn't try it if I were you. Samara isn't someone to mess with. She is a killer, she serves and protects her Master. And her kill count is higher than mine. Samara is ONLY a slave to Raff and no one else. If you try to order her, hurt her or continue to annoy her by being the little high class bullies you are, she might hurt you. And Raff isn't here to control her if she loses control again."

The kids looked uneasy and Samara went very still and silent. Knowing what was coming, Piggy surpressed a grin and shook his head, speaking gravely.

"Oh no..looks like she is set off. I'd run if I were you."

Samara came to life with contorting limbs, rushing forth towards the kids as if she were deranged, growling, snarling. The kids all screamed and flew out the door. Piggy burst out laughing and so did the little girl.

Samara giggled and then gave the little girl a pat on the shoulder. It was fleeting and quick then Samara sat back on the stool to continue grating cheese. The girl wandered the room then went to stand next to Samara again.

"You can't speak, can you? Not because you are a ghost, I can see you are real. But, they said maybe your Master cut out your tongue. Did that happen to you?"

With a tiny giggle Samara shook her head then stuck her tongue out at the little girl. 

Piggy sighed and grabbed a small package of oatmeal cookies and threw them to the kid.

"Here, go hide in your room and eat the cookies. Read a book. Watch a movie, stay out of range of the asshole kids."

"Thank you for the cookies. I'm going to stay in the kitchen. Those guys just got scared and humiliated by you, they won't come back. I can even help if you want! I am really good at baking, just like my mom! She used to be the cook here before father died...then his wife demoted her to parlor maid. She made my mom beg her on her knees not to turn her out. Please let me help and stay in here?"

Huffing but too busy to really care, Piggy shrugged.

"Fine, stay but stay out of the way. We are very busy."

It turned out that the girl wasn't boasting. She moved a like a ninja with a paring knife, she chopped fast if uneven and moved twice as fast as Samara. Of course, Samara was a little slower than she'd liked to have been.

In order for her to help Piggy with so much work, Raff had to give her pain pills. So she was a bit foggy, a bit clumsy and still very sore. She was also allowed to use a stool to sit upon while working.

Samara was so grateful that her Master cared enough to allow her such sweet luxuries.

"Why doesn't she speak? Is Samara mute for real?"

"She can talk, when she is allowed too. Her Master has to give permission for her to speak is all."

Wide eyes ate up poor Samara who shifted uneasily on the stool, then almost grated her own finger off.

"That is mean. Why would he do that? Does she have a really bad potty mouth?"

Both Piggy and Samara laughed.

"Yeah, something like that. Raff likes quiet. Let's talk about something else. Ask a different question."

The girl sat on a kitchen chair and munched her cookies thoughtfully.

"How did you two become slaves? Weren't you from the North? They don't allow slavery there. My mother said that slavery wasn't allowed in Westeros."

Piggy grinned and stirred some more pans before checking on a casserole in the oven.

"Yes, we were both Northerners and slavery is considered illegal in Westeros, but I think it's going to happen anyway. Best not to talk about that stuff, yeah? Can get you in trouble if the wrong ears hear you, honey. By the way, I have a question. You know our names but what is yours?"

The girl had finished one cookie and pocketed the rest.

"I will give this to my mother later for dinner, thanks! Oh, my name! Duh, sorry. My name is Pepper. Walder names all the kids when he can but he didn't want to name me. So my mom named me for the spice she loved the whole time she was pregnant with me. My mom said she would use up all the pepper in stock and Mrs. Frey would get so mad at her about it! Stop looking at me all shocked and trying to be teacher like. You don't look like any teacher, parent or babysitter. You couldn't order around a cactus. I am little, just like Samara. But know what? Just like Samara, I am little with big power hidden inside. My mom says big things come in little packages. It's true! I am small, but I am really smart for a twelve year old, my mom said so. So did the teachers at school when I got all A's!"

The two stared at this tiny fireball and smiled. Piggy sliced a piece of Polliver's chicken pot pie in the fridge and heated it for Pepper. Then added a piece of Raff's favorite cake. Piggy also put some of the pot pie and the cake in containers for Pepper's mother.

"Tell your mother that I will leave containers marked for you both in the fridge for your dinners for now on. As for your breakfast and lunch, screw those mean bitches in the servants quarters. You tell your mom that you two are welcome in my kitchen anytime to make your breakfast and lunches. You take whatever you both need."

 

Polliver groaned as he staggered into the kitchen.

"I am so fucking done. Piggy, tell me this is the last batch, huh? Yeah?"

"Yes Master, these last boxes are it."

The boy was weaving where he stood and covered in sweat from cooking for eight straight hours.

"You look done in. Make me coffee and get dinner going then you can go take a break."

Piggy thanked Polliver with dubious gratitude, then staggered over to the coffeepot.

Luckily, he had put aside one of the casseroles he made for dinner. He deftly slid it into the oven to reheat while the coffee percolated. Polliver grinned down at the little girl sitting next to Samara.

"Well, when did we pick up one of Santa's elves to help us out?"

Polliver's voice suggested he was speaking to a five year old and he crouched down to smile at her.

"You are Polliver, right? I am Pepper. Do you own Piggy or Samara?"

Polliver smirked at the little hot shit that by voice was clearly no young child.

"Hello, Pepper. I am indeed the one and only amazing Polliver and I own Piggy."

"Why does he have to have such a mean name? And wear silly clothes like that? And why are they both wearing dog collars that can shock?"

Piggy wrung his hands nervously and Samara went tense. Rushing forward, Piggy spoke kindly but with a touch of panic.

"Hey, you should go find your mom and give her those containers, tell her she can microwave them, okay? Why don't you go and not bug Polliver with questions. He is very tired."

"Uh..did you just speak for me?"

Polliver's voice was not as cold due to the child being next to him but his eyes spoke volumes to the shrinking Piggy.

"I am very sorry, Master. I won't do it again. I'll go get your coffee and shut my mouth."

Piggy nearly ran to get the coffee but Polliver's eyes stayed pinned on him for a moment longer.

"You want to put down the shovel, Piggy or you'll lose your break."

"Yes, Master. I'm very sorry. Shovel down, no digging."

Piggy limped over and set a steaming cup of coffee down on the table next to wear Polliver stood. Piggy expected a harsh slap or whack to his head and wasn't disappointed. His ear rang a song of Polliver's palm and would probably do so for at least an hour.

"Stop saying stupid things. You have that oven timer set for twenty minutes. That is how long you have to rest, so take off boy. Or do you want to open your mouth and see what comes out? I am sure that would work out well for you. Anything you want to express or speak out on?"

Shaking his head firmly, Piggy fled the room while Polliver chuckled before sipping his coffee. He leaned back and narrowed his eyes at Samara. She was slumped over the table and was grating cheese, plastic and skin.

"Hey, put that down before you grate more Samara than cheese! Until Raff gets back I'm in charge, remember that? Good. I'm letting you take a break along with Piggy. Eighteen minutes now, better get moving. Oh, wait, I have something for you, I had almost forgotten. Here, your Master said if you didn't look good to let you have some pills. Swallow it down, good. Now go lay down and let that work."

Samara staggered off and Polliver stood up, stretching.

"Let me see if I can answer your questions, Pepper. My boy is a fucking mess of a human and I am the only thing that keeps him alive. When I first got him, he was really, really fat. So I called him Piggy. And he is in bright silly clothing and wearing a shock collar because he was bad. He ran and fought when he wasn't supposed to so this is his punishment."

Polliver gave the girl a dismissive pat on the head, chugged his coffee and left the room.

 

Joss knew he would go to hell if such a thing existed.

He was right, except he wasn't dead yet. Hell turned out to be right in Westeros.

The meager light coming from the dirty yellow bulb from the basement ceiling was just enough for Joss to make out his own body. All the lines of his body was wrong. Gilly had dislocated Joss's legs and arms before throwing him over a leather table. It had padded leather for comfort but wrist restraints and Gilly quickly strapped down both wrists.

"Gods, you stupid bitch! You dislocated everything and you still strap me down? Fucking overkill, much?"

That is when Gilly smiled and walked away to pick up a crowbar. She used it to break Joss's jaw.

"I find you very rude. I think you should contemplate things in your head instead of it leaking out of your mouth and getting you hurt, Bitch."

Joss wanted to scream that wasn't his name but he could only slur out moans and screeches.

He did lots of that when Gilly positioned him the way she wanted. In fact, Joss was already screaming before Gilly even touched him. He writhed upon the table screaming as Gilly came towards him naked.

She was wearing a silver strap on and the dildo was impossibly huge and metal.  Joss buried his face into his shoulder, not caring about a small crack and a flare of white pain that told him something broke in there.

He howled when Gilly began to force herself inside him without bothering with lubrication. Joss felt his muscles tearing, a terrible feeling of invasion, the cold terrible metal burst through and Gilly laughed at his agony.

Her hand began to rip the bandages away from his groin. When he tried to squirm and buck, Gilly slapped his wounds, spanking the mess of stitches and swollen ruin. Stiches broke at the power of the blows and blood splattered lightly upon her.

Joss screamed and then tried to beg for her to stop but it was all slurred into a long howl of a plea for mercy. Gilly stopped and began to rub her hand along the destroyed groin. A few hard thrusts and then she leaned over the trembling man, her eyes taking in every inch of him.

"Open your eyes, I want to see them. If you don't, I'm going to remove them."

Joss shuddered, hearing his own order given back to him. With a sob, he turned his face up and opened his eyes.

With a smile as cold and far away as the moon, Gilly pressed a little button on the belt of her strap on. Joss arched and the restraints barely held him as the powerful electrical currents ran through his body.

Sucking in a deep breath, Gilly stared down into his agonized eyes as she rode his body like a rodeo cowboy. Gilly growled as she raped Joss brutally.

"Yeah, so tight on my dick, Bitch. Scream and cry for me, poor little boy. Aww...hurts? Does it hurt, poor little bitch? Come on, take it, take my fucking cock, you RAPIST FUCKING ASSHOLE! YOU SOCIOPATH CUNT!  DOES THIS FEEL GOOD, HUH?"

Rage and a sudden dark lust ballooned in Gilly's brain. She thrust hard, going to deeper, she hoped it broke something important. The she hit the button, that made her moan, to watch him seize and sob, feeling him try and fail to get away from her, from what she is doing to him.

As soon as Joss began to recover from another electrical shock, Gilly laughed and hit the button again. And again. And again. She finally began to orgasm to his extreme terror and pain. Straining hard into him, Gilly started to scream at Joss while her body racked in pleasure.

"Take it, you fucking Bitch! I hate you...I fucking hate you!"

It wasn't until Gilly sat back up that she noticed Joss wasn't moving. Or making any sound. She looked down at him and muttered,

"Ah fuck. Whoops."

 

Piggy's sense of timing was superb. It had to be around here.

In exactly twenty minutes, Piggy was staggering half awake towards the kitchen. He heard noises as he entered the servants hall that would get him to the kitchen quicker and without running into others.

Except it wasn't empty this time and Piggy stopped frozen for a moment.

Polliver had a servant leaning against the wall, well, she was cringing away from him but with no actual way to escape. He was leering into her face.

"Please, Sir! I'll get in trouble, I'd get fired, Mrs. Frey has said as much. She told me if she ever caught me with a man, she'd toss my daughter and I right on to the street! How would I feed my daughter then? Please, I know your friend brought more slaves. Can't you...?"

Piggy saw the woman's desperate face and he felt his heart land into his stomach. The same eyes as the little girl and he just knew it was Pepper's mother. Worse was knowing there was nothing he could do to help her.

"Aww, don't worry about Mrs. Frey, I'll make sure she leaves you alone. And those slaves have been working their asses off all day. They are shoving food down their throats and dropping to sleep. That isn't any fun to fuck now, is it?  But you are quite fuckable, aren't you? All pretty and scared like a hunted doe in the woods. I find that cute as hell."

Polliver put a hand on the woman's breast and the other caressed her throat. Piggy wished he could tell her to just do as Polliver wanted. Saying no will make it worse. He also wished that he were anywhere else but here.

"Piggy, I can fucking see you. If you are practicing spying, you suck at it. If you are just trying out some voyeurism then I have to tell you, I'm really creeped by you jerking off to my conquests.

"It's been twenty minutes, Master. I was just going into the kitchen to pull the casserole out of the oven and set the table. I didn't wish to interrupt you and didn't know if I should go past you or not."     

Polliver smiled at Pepper's mother. 

"Please excuse my idiot Piggy. He isn't very smart and needs a lot of instruction."

Turning his head to give Piggy raised eyebrows, Polliver spoke as if conversing with a special needs first grade class.

"Let's think it out, Piggy. You are already halfway down the fucking hall, right? Right! You can turn and walk all the fuck the way around the house or just go past us into the kitchen. Pick one and fucking do it."

With his red face lowered, Piggy nearly ran past Polliver and the maid. He felt terrible, there was nothing he could do to help her.

He went into the kitchen to see Samara stagger in and Pepper was still sitting at the table which was already set up. 


	129. Monsters Always Creep Out At Night

Piggy put beer at Polliver and Raff's dinner setting.

He grimaced at the dog dishes before setting Samara's next to her Master's chair and his at Polliver's chair. It was a damned casserole, how were they supposed to eat that in a dog dish? He set silverware and napkins next to the dog dishes.

Pepper yawned and stretched. 

"I'll go since you are having dinner soon. Thank you for the food, Piggy. And thank you for the protection, Samara."

"No! You can't leave yet...I ahh...I wanted to make some lunches for the kids in the North that don't want stews and casseroles. Why don't you make this your project? I want you to go through the pantry and cabinets, the fridge and freezer. Write me a list of what would be an easy quick lunch for kids."

Nodding, Pepper got pen and paper then began to search. Piggy walked over to Samara who was making sure her Master's place had everything perfect. He leaned very close and whispered to her.

"Polliver is raping Pepper's mother in the servants hallway. We have to keep this kid in here until he is done. Pepper doesn't need to see that shit. Fucking Polliver, can't just fucking keep his dick to himself or pay a whore to want it. No. Easier to just terrorize and rape every fucking female you like."

Samara shot a black look towards the doorway to the servants hall.

She heard the anger and helplessness in Piggy's voice. Her hand squeezed Piggy's arm and she lay her head on his shoulder for a moment. As she did this her other hand traced along his whip lines that have wrapped around his arm.

Snorting, Piggy gave her a playful shrug away. 

"If I only knew any recipes like that! I would give Polliver impotence in a moment. All I can do is try and keep the kid from finding out and let her hide here from the bullies. Too bad the biggest bullies in the house happen to use this room as much as we do."

 

Nothing and everything. Taxes a body and brain to be dead then brought back to life.

Joss was no different than any other human in that aspect if no other. He lurched, thrashed and tried to scream through wheezing, aching lungs. It was some time before he truly registered the sounds and movement around him.

By the time he became aware of who he was, where he was, Joss was able to sob.

When he was able to focus on Gilly, he saw the transformation that before he had only glimpsed deep in her eyes.

Was this what Waif's killers were underneath the training? The fucking little woman didn't turn children into monsters. No, she she found monsters that had been pretending to be children.

Gilly's hair looked as if she had suffered a terrible shock.

The dilated eyes have grown to teacup saucers and they bugged out of her face.

Spit glistened along her lips and chin, mixing with blood. Long scratches grooved her scalp and face, chunks of hair have been pulled.

She was giving a rusty laugh, her voice sounded shredded as if she screamed until ripping her vocal chords. The weak lines of blood with spittle seemed to give truth to that theory.

Her hands have become werewolf claws that mindlessly closed and open as if kneading the very air.

"Oh, you naughty boy! How dare you scare me like that? You cannot die and stay dead without permission! That is fucking RUDE of you! Oh, you! YOU YOU YOU! Just like my fucking stepfather! Rude and trying to stay dead, just to give me that last real good FUCK, right?"

She threw her head back and seemed to howl at the moon like a real werewolf would. Except she made no sound, it was just straining jaws and bulging eyes.

Joss gave a moan of terror and a smell of urine grew. After a moment, Gilly stopped and shut her eyes.

She turned around and smiled at her victim.

"Is Bitch scared? Good. Go on, piss and shit yourself in fear, I don't mind. I am good at clean up, I'll get to it when I finish with you."

Gilly's voice was rusty but clear and her eyes were mad but controlled now.

She began to pick up the defibrillator and put it onto a shelf. Then she paced back and forth in front of Joss, her claws working, scooping her words up and tossing them back out with a wild force.

"You two...you are just like that fucker. Two of you to fuck up my life, that is one too many. I mean, how much can one girl take, right? State took too long to take me from my father. He put me in a burn unit before they got around to it. That is what you get if you gear up your courage to tell the milkman the real reason I have so many mommies and sisters. Craster set me on fire to kill me. My own mother stood there with the others all crying and begging. None of them stopped it though. Neighbors did that. So many surgeries, so much pain. Can you imagine what that does to an eight year old girl? One of the nurses was a guy named Jaq and he was there to kill my doctor. He was kind. He waited until the doctor had done all he could for me before killing him. Then he took me with him to Waif."

Gilly stopped and spun to stare at Joss, her face frozen in a snarl.

"I found that bastard again when I had the chance. He was in the hospital with some disease slowly killing him. I went to see him and showed him that naughty girls can hurt naughty boys very badly. And he died and I brought him back. Twice. Then he stayed a very shitty daddy to the end by staying dead."

Gilly ran to the table fast and her claws clamped onto his ears and lifted Joss's head to stick her face close.

"Waif was mad at me for it! She had never gotten mad at me before! She didn't understand why I couldn't just kill him fast and neat, hiding the evidence. Even though she had bad naughty men do terrible things to her and her brother when they were little, even though they went and killed each of those men! She said I used all emotion and not enough smarts. That I made myself weaker and almost got caught! I had to stop working, see these stupid doctors she called and take pills, pills, take the fucking pills, Gilly!"

Spittle covered Joss's face and Gilly released Joss's ears to let her clammy palms gently rub the spittle on his face as if it were priceless lotion. She gave a wolfish grin and spoke conspiratorially. 

"Do you know the doctor told Waif I was stone cold fucking crazy? Know what Waif said back?"

Gilly raised her hands away to make a bad impression of Waif.

 "All my children are crazy and dangerous, Doctor Pycelle. What I want to know is this, is she too far gone for her to hone the crazy into a useful direction?"

She laughed as if it was the best joke in the world then raised her eyebrows at Joss.

"Don't you see? No, of course not. How could you? You dumb praying mantis fuck, how could a fucking predator like you not see something like this coming? But you don't, my stepfather didn't. I can tell you why, because just like me, we all forget. When you are a monster, you forget. You forget that the only thing that can really destroy a monster is another monster."

She roared into his face and Joss screamed back. Laughing, Gilly spun away from Joss and began to pace slower as if trying to calm herself.

"After what you did to me, Waif paid for everything. There I was again, back to surgeries, pain and pills. Then it was pills and doctors and they told Waif something different this time. They told her I shouldn't work anymore, that my crazy might leak out at the wrong time. So she gave me money and told me to keep seeing the doctor. I bought this fucking cottage and I got a bunch of cats. I made a garden out back and I keep in touch with the other children and Waif. I saw the doctor regularly. Right where you are currently laying, in fact. I gave him pills then I pumped his stomach after he went crazy then nearly overdosed. Then I gave him another little taste of his own medicine. He was a fan of shock therapy, you see. I got plenty of them in between the strait jacket, isolation rooms and therapy sessions. So I made sure to bring that lovely bit of machinery with me when I kidnapped him. I shocked Pycelle until his brain fried. He is buried in my garden. I wonder how long it will be before you can sleep next to him? I am hoping to keep you for a long time, but my temper...sometimes it slips up on me."

 

THWACK!

Piggy winced and leaned down to pick up the thrown boot to put it away neatly. He turned and looked at Polliver calmly.

"Yes, Master?"

Polliver put on his favorite pajama bottoms, they had been custom made. From the black cotton, Darth Vader, Darth Maul and Kylo Ren stared menacingly at Piggy.

"What is your problem? You have been fucking sulking and pouting all night. I'm tired and tomorrow is as busy as today was for us both. So save us both aggravation and don't just be a little cunt for days on end till you get over whatever this is. Just say it and get it over with."

Shaking his head, Piggy headed for his cage.

"Master, you warned me not to pick up the shovel. I'm obeying that order so I don't end up in more trouble. I don't want a muzzle because my words upset you. I'm sorry, I will try not to sulk anymore."

Groaning, Polliver flung himself into the bed.

"Too tired for your melodramatic shit, boy. I'm even willing to let you sleep with the cage door open because I'm too tired too get up and shut the fucking thing. So just return the favor and tell me what your fucking issue is and use respect. Do not make me have to get back up to pound you, Piggy. Start talking."

Piggy tried to figure out how to phrase his words.

"That maid in the hallway? That was Pepper's mother."

Polliver pulled his blankets up and shrugged as he yawned.

"Yeah, so what?"

"Well, I told Pepper that she could use the kitchen as sort of a sanctuary from all the bullies and could help us out in there. Samara and I could use the help really."

"Okay, fine. I don't care if the girl is in the kitchen, hiding, helping, as long as it doesn't make you or Samara work less efficiently. What the fuck does this have to do with anything?"

"In order for Pepper to come back and forth to the kitchen, she has to use the servants hallway. She almost saw you! I was able to keep her in the kitchen distracted."

"Uh huh. So...you want me to rape the maid in a private location? Gotcha. Shut out the damned lights and go to bed."

Piggy opened his mouth then snapped it shut. Polliver laughed as Piggy lowered his head and went to shut the lights out.

"Since you managed to keep your hand off that shovel, I'll reward you. I might be a bully and a rapist among other fun things, but you know I'm not like Tickler or Joss. The woman didn't try to fight or run, she didn't run her mouth, I didn't need to hurt her. No bruises for her to explain away to the kid. I won't fuck her in the kitchen or the halls. Kid is cute enough, her name fits. I like her, I won't hurt her mother on purpose. Stupid idiot, now get to sleep and if you snore, I'll make you sleep on the back porch with a tied leash!"

 

Brat nearly tiptoed into the dark large mansion. She used a shiny key that Gregor had given her before he left the Dragonlands. Of course, getting there in the middle of the night meant she got to test their defenses. Which meant from the point that Brat put a single toe into the Riverlands, it took her thirty minutes to be cleared to enter the damned house.

First thing she encountered at the mansion was a moat. There was certainly a way across it, a small narrow bridge with an armed man at each end. Brat recognized Raff's tattoo on each of the men, slaves that can be trusted with weapons. Wonderful. She hoped that Raff isn't about to bring in more slave trade.

Even after Brat told them who she was, they insisted she remain still, hands on her head while they searched her. Then they confiscated her weapons until her identity was confirmed. Crossing the bridge she noticed the newly imported alligators swimming in the quickly manufactured moat. Raff must have used slaves for labor to get the bridge and moat done this fast.

She was unwillingly impressed. Even the line that begins the Riverlands, that large bridge that this one mimics, had cameras, plus armed men at both ends. They had been expecting her as Gregor had hired these men in the south years ago. As she went over the bridge in her Uber, she noticed a wall being built on both sides of the bridge. It was already imposing in it's infancy and Brat sulked.

It wasn't fair that Raff got so much done, he had slaves, that was cheating. If Brat had been the one there, she would have done just as well, but slower. She had to really step up her game to prove to them all she was worthy of being both Gregor's daughter and the second in command.

After being challenged twice more, Brat had finally made it to the door and into the house. Brat thought she would just go crash on whatever couch was in the first room she found. She was too tired to bother finding a guest room. Brat walked into a faintly lit room and there was indeed a very long comfortable looking couch.

Raff was sitting upon it, Samara kneeling beside him with her head on his thigh.

"Gregor called me earlier this evening. You have overstepped your bounds."

"Wow. No, hey Brat, nice to see you. Just straight to being an asshole. Look at you sitting there like your my father waiting to bust me for coming home late. Even with the dim light and whiskey in hand, smug fucking look and all. Except I can't see Cat or Waif acting like Samara."

"Do I look like I want to joke with you? Do I seem like I want to be sitting awake waiting for you? I have worked my ass off all day, so has my pet. We are fucking way past tired. But we must wait for you because Gregor informed me what you did. How could you think that was alright to do? I told you, I was very fucking crystal clear. I said you could beat on Joss or hunt and scare him if you chose to. I told you that Jorah could help you catch and transport Joss to a slave auction. One that I knew would never be able to contain Joss once he recovered enough to escape. That was the plan. You actually castrated and sold one of your own."

Brat's face hardened.

"No. He wasn't one of my own. That is Gregor, you, Polliver and the pets. That is anyone else Gregor brings in and declares one of our own. Those men at the bridge are one of my own. But Joss was a sick fucking freakish monster that deserved everything he gets. I know what he did to Gilly, do you know how much she suffered because of him? Waif won't let her work even though she is healed. That is how messed up she got over what he did! She lost everything because of him! You and Polliver almost lost my friends because of him! And what he did to Piggy? That repulsive praying mantis almost sold me into slavery, Raff! He wasn't bluffing or pranking me, Raff! Also, I had time while we wasted away in your sandy hellhole to look over what remained of the Southern operations paperwork. He was fucking you all over, fucking Gregor over. He was a traitor, a mole, a snitch among everything else. We don't need someone like that in our pack!"

Raff cocked his head and smirked,but his voice was velvet. This made Samara tense slightly and give a faint whine.

"You do not get to make those types of decisions. If you had proof that Joss was a traitor then you should have brought it to Gregor or one of us. Then either our leader or our family decides what to do about it. You are not the leader to make judgement calls. Did you forget who you are?"

"I'm Brat. Gregor's daughter and second in command for the Riverlands."

Raff gave a small laugh and sipped his whiskey.

"Not anymore, dear. You gave up your chance at becoming second in command here the moment you went after Joss instead of returning to the Riverlands. I have done quite well here and Gregor is pleased with my fast and efficient work. The ladies are content, busy and quite charmed by Viserys Targaryen. My slaves are grateful that we actually saved them instead of leaving them to die during the attack. They are well fed and are very loyal hard workers. The one thing Gregor is pissed about is you."

Brat scowled and walked over to the couch.

"I will be his second in command. I will not just give up and let you take my place! Yes, I castrated Joss and sold him to Gilly. But the man was a traitor and I can prove it to Gregor! He will forgive me and I'll start climbing to knock you off the pyramid. Do you really think he will pick you over his own daughter?"

Raff's eyes glowed and he answered softly while petting Samara's hair.

"Yes, I think Gregor will see my superior work and cool, collected decisions and choose me. You are a child. Truly in age and temperament you are just a little spoiled Brat. Adopted. Remember to add that, would you, Arya? You are the ADOPTED child of Gregor Clegane. And like any good father he knows when he should spare the rod and when he shouldn't."

A small twitch of his head, Raff whispered sweetly to his pet.

"Attack her."

Samara launched before Brat could understand what was knocking her flat.


	130. Late Nights Are Great For Reflections

Brat laid flat on her back, dazed with a snarling, drooling rabid girl on top of her. This girl was far different than the one that played dolls with Sansa. Samara flashed her teeth and her head dove down as Brat screamed, her hands moving too slow to catch more than the long hair. 

"Stop!"

Samara froze, her teeth just grazing Brat's neck. Her body thrummed with adrenaline but she had stopped the second Raff spoke.

"Good girl. Stay."

Brat panted, afraid to move, the slightest shift made the girl growl at her. Shuddering, Brat felt Samara's spittle creeping down the side of her neck.

"I would not struggle if I were you. She won't kill you, but she might damage your throat a bit to keep you down."

Raff towered over Brat for a second then he crouched down next to her. His hand stroked over Samara's back soothingly as he stared down at the little idiot.

"You were lucky to have brought down Joss. And you only were able to safely do so by bringing Jorah with you. Remember, I had you take him with you? It was for that very reason. For this reason. Look at you, taken down by a slave, Arya. You are only fifteen. You are not old enough to make decisions on your own and you have not learned enough to challenge dangerous folks. What do you think Joss will do to you for this? For castrating him, for selling him to one of his own victims? This will no longer be payback, he will truly attempt to kill you."

Brat looked up at Raff defiantly.

"He won't be coming back to kill me."

"So you are admitting you sent him to his death?"

"Yes! He deserved it! I called Waif, I knew she'd be really distracted with the work in the North. I asked her for Gilly's contact info and said I had a present for her. Waif thought that was a nice thing to do but warned me to be careful as Gilly hasn't been very well. I contacted Gilly and told her exactly who I had. It took her seconds to offer me fifty dollars for Joss. I knew after what he did to her there was no way she wouldn't just kill him. Maybe torture him a little first. He's probably dead already!"

"You'd better hope he is for your own sake. I'm going to tell Polliver what you've done when he wakes up. At breakfast we will let you know your punishment. You broke the rules of how we deal with each other. We break rules, we pay for it. You are one of us, right?"

Raff stood up and snapped his fingers. Instantly, Samara flew off of Brat and knelt at her Master's side. Brat scrambled to her feet and backed up a bit. She was flushed but her eyes stayed on Raff's with challenge.

"I am one of you and someday I'll be above you. Remember, even if you get to be second in command, I inherit everything Gregor builds. And who do you think I'll want to be MY second in command?"

"I'll take my chances. Grow up first then I might see you as a threat. If I were you, I would check with Gilly, call her and make sure he's dead. You have a guest room on the second floor, fifth room on the left hand side. I made sure the servants knew and had your room ready. Do not be late for breakfast. I'll make sure someone wakes you."

Raff turned and left the room, Samara crawling next to him. Brat didn't move until after she was sure they had gone to bed. She didn't cry until after she found her way into her new room. Once she stopped her tears, Brat tried to text and call Gilly. There was no response.

 

Gilly unstrapped Joss's legs then snapped each one back in place. Each time Joss yelped, she giggled.

"Now, I am going to unstrap your arms, but let them stay dislocated so you can't use them to hurt me. You are going to think about kicking me, or running. If you try to do that, I'm going to use this steel bat to smash your feet and legs until they are pulverized."

Joss nodded and didn't move even after she undid the rest of the straps, her bat close to her side. He watched her warily and waited to hear what she wanted him to do. Play along, go along with what she wants until he can find a way to escape or murder this fucking crazy ass whacko.

He wants to beat her to death with the bat or maybe fuck her to death with her electric dildo.

Gilly finished the last strap then gave him a mighty shove. Joss landed hard and screamed as his broken jaw hit the concrete. He blacked out and when he came back to awareness, he was moved. His raw skin told him that the crazy cunt dragged him across the rough stone to a rubber mat.

There was a spiked collar tightly wrapped around his throat, the spikes were on the inside. He whimpered as the sharp spikes dug into his tender flesh. Tendrils of blood danced thin lines down his back and chest from it. A long leather leash attached to his collar was tied tightly to a ring in the floor. He had enough room to sit, kneel or lay down.

Gilly poured water from a bottle into a water dish made for dogs. She set it down next to the mat and grinned.

"I'm going upstairs for a little while to rest and think about what our next game should be. You be a good Bitch. Drink water, rest while you can. If you decide to be naughty, just remember the bat."

Singing in a off key hoarse voice, Gilly headed upstairs. The song she was singing was Pop Goes The Weasel. Joss had a pretty good feeling about who the weasel was about to get popped. I have until she gets back to find a way out, he thought and he forced himself to breathe. To ignore the pain, to fight the fear and think clearly. 

He soothed himself with the thoughts of murdering Gilly and Brat. Not just murder, no, he will take his fucking time on both of them. But first, how to get free? The leash was leather, could he bite through it?His hands might not be able to reach up but even broken, he was able to move his jaw some.

Some of the teeth, no all of the teeth left in his mouth are shattered, broken and sharp as blades. He tried to bite the leash and pain exploded i his head. He vomited from the swelling fire in his jaw and mouth. Then he tried sawing and biting as much as he could. Twice he vomited, three times he passed out. It frayed, slowly it weakened, fabric began to give way more and more.

 

Waif watched as ashes, wood, concrete and finally, earth began to be lifted by the large machines. Gregor was already making good on his promises for rebuilding. He got the common working man to nearly worship him. Some of the very people that knew terrible conditions under Gregor's treatment in the North before were suddenly supporting him.

Not one other person stepped forward to dare try and take control or offer to help but Gregor. He brought together units of different task forces. Gregor gave an impassioned speech written by a person he has never met about how everyone is valued, everyone has a talent that is useful. That money is not all that matters, in fact it was the common man that did the work, not the ones with the money.

They had a full construction crew put together and working right away. A man half covered in dirt came over with a small bundle in his arms.

"Excuse me? I was told to bring this to you. They found these items in the rubble and after I showed it to one of Gregor's men he told me to bring it here. So...here you are. Ma'am."

She thanked the man then examined the items. A watch, a ring that all Lannisters wore, gold band, ruby red gem with a black lion delicately carved into it. Most interesting was the cell phone. Turning it on, Waif gave no expression as she heard a chilling audio. I can't let Gregor get distracted by this, Waif thought and called to one of her own.

"Get this to the Riverlands. Hand it to Polliver, Raff or Brat, please. Make sure whomever you hand it to knows there is a very last call on it they want to hear." 

 


	131. Breakfast Is An Important Part Of Any Day

Joss sobbed and lay in his own puke, trying to madly think of a plan to escape.

His throat was so sore and dry, it wasn't very noticeable amount all his pains, but it was there. He squirmed forward and lapped pathetically at the water in the dish. Laying in the cleaner section of the mat, he stared at the faded blue plastic dog dish.

And then he really noticed the dog dish. It was plastic, it was severely cracked in one area and water was trickling out. Slowly, an idea formed. It took all night for Joss to bite and rip the bowl into some usable sharp shapes then scrape the edges along the frayed leash.

It snapped just as the first true morning light blessed the small barred window.

 

A knock sounded on Pollliver's door.

"Ugh...Piggy, go answer the door."

Piggy crawled out of the cage and opened the door to let Raff in just as Polliver's alarm went off.

"Goddammit, Piggy! Where is my fucking phone? Shut that shit off!"

Muttering, the boy began to head towards his cage area.

"Yes, Master. You threw it at the cage last night because I was snoring."

Raff smirked and walked over to sit on Polliver's desk chair. Piggy located the phone, shut the alarm off then staggered off to the bathroom.

"Brat came home last night, but not before Gregor called me. She castrated Joss then sold him to Gilly. Remember, Waif's girl pretending to be a house slave? Joss raped her and fucked her up badly. Brat said she knew the woman was really unstable and would murder Joss."

Polliver winced and grabbed his own junk under the covers.

"The castration upsets me more than the selling to a crazy killer. Piggy! Stop eavesdropping! Go get yourself ready and get my fucking coffee going! Now! Move faster!"

Raff smirked then his face smoothed into innocent features. 

"You can take your time if you want to, Piggy. Samara got up early with me and she is already down there. Banging pots and pans, I think she was going to get a head start on making breakfast for you. I think she was trying to experiment, I saw her flipping through some recipe notebook you have."

Piggy gasped, outraged. He moved so fast he was a blur of clothing and then gone. They winced at a thud and yelp.

"He is still having trouble with the broken toes, makes him clumsy."

Raff laughed then looked at Polliver gravely.

"Arya broke our rules concerning each other and how far we can go. We can't let that slide, you know that. And she needs to be put in her fucking place. I like the little shit but she is getting way too fucking big of an ego. When I confronted her last night, she was rude and ignorant. She was more concerned with challenging me for second in command then dealing with what she had done. Arya doesn't care that she broke the rules. She thinks she did us all a service by killing him. I do believe her on that one, I went over some stuff last night after she told me that Joss had been taking money and selling our secrets. He was one of Kevan's main informants, I think. So yeah, we all would have murdered him anyway. But as a group, under Gregor's command. She doesn't see that."

"We can punish her for breaking our rules and put her in her fucking place easy enough. But is Joss dead? If not, he will be coming for her first chance he can get. I mean, she castrated him, fuck, if it was me, I'd find a way to live if for nothing else, than to go after the person that unmanned me."

Raff nodded and sighed.

"Yeah, I am going to assign one of my armed slaves to shadow her until we have confirmation of Joss's death. If he lived through Gilly, then he won't be in the best of shape. I admit, it would be nice to have him back here and face OUR justice instead."

"Well, was Arya acting like a temperamental little kid or more like a teen trying to mimic us?"

"She was acting like a little brat, like a kid coming home late and I was the fucking parent. Arya even made a joke about that. When she wasn't interested in my lecture I sent Samara at her to knock her and hold her throat with her teeth. Scared the shit of the little punk. She listened then."

Polliver laughed, his eyes twinkling.

"I wish I had seen that. If she wants to act like a the hot shit she said she was, we can treat her like one. I have a great idea. Arya's punishment doesn't have to be all at once, right? We can make it all day long. How about this?"  

 

Joss tottered about for a minute then managed to steady himself.

He took some steps to make sure he could walk but his arms remained dangling. Fuck, what was he going to do, push her aggressively or stab her with a dagger in his mouth? He almost panicked then stared at hard rock wall. 

Taking a deep, shuddering breath, Joss checked the positioning one more time.

Then he slammed his shoulder into the wall with brutal force. He bit back a cry of pain as his shoulder clicked back into place. He leaned against the rock, panting and sobbing. Once the pain receded enough to just join the rest of the agonies, Joss did his others shoulder.

That is when he heard the lock click from upstairs.

 

Brat dressed dark and made her make up even darker.

In spite of the other shit Joss did, he was really good at helping someone pick an image. She loved her new Gothic steam punk kind of look. It was a shield in some ways too and she needed that today.

She knows that Raff and Polliver won't go easy on her for breaking their stupid rules. Plus, Gregor will come back or call and then he will punish her too.

She got downstairs early, not wanting to feel like the sacrificial virgin heading willingly into her own death.

So Brat was the one who received the man dropping off items that belonged to Dusten. The instruction to hear the last phone message was intriguing. Running up to her room, Brat stashed the items so she could listen to the message later.

Then braced herself, put up her chin and headed towards the kitchen.

 

Piggy had raced into the kitchen, face red and mouth open to bellow. He skidded to a clumsy halt while three pairs of eyes stared at him. Pepper and her mother were sitting at the table finishing up their breakfast.

Samara had started the coffee, pulled out the pans and utensils Piggy would use for the day and set them on the counter. Now she was gathering items to set the table with when the servant and her daughter were done eating.

Her eyebrows raised and she grinned. Piggy groaned.

"Sorry...I, uh. I was pranked by Raff...never mind."

The woman gave a small smile.

"Thank you for your kindness towards my daughter. She told me that we could eat in here. Oh, the casserole last night was amazing! We have never eaten this well, thank you."

"Of course, eat here anytime you want! I'm glad you like the food! Your daughter is a great help to us, she helped me create a whole lunch plan for the northern kids. We will be making those today."

He was awkward, he kept flashing to how Pepper's mother was squirming in Polliver's grip. Rushing over to the counter, grabbing items, Piggy started to cook.

"Samara, don't forget to add a setting for Brat. I have a feeling she is getting in trouble with the guys today. Did you hear what she did to Joss?"

Fast words made in silence, fingers flying.

"You knocked her down? Damn. That is fucking amazing, you took down Gregor's daughter! Oh shit, she will be so pissed at you. Yeah, I know you had no choice in it. Doesn't mean she won't be pissed over it. I wonder if Joss is alive still? I have to say, I think that she did the right thing. I hope Gilly tortures the sick bastard before she kills him. If it were me, if I had the chance, castration would have only been the start."

"Glad you think that way. I need someone on my side, after all."

Brat hugged Piggy and stole a piece of bacon from the growing rasher near the fryer. Gasping her arms, Piggy smiled at her but swung her away from Samara.

"You need to tell me everything! You are always having the best adventures and I need to live vicariously through yours."

Snorting, Brat shoved Piggy away and stole another piece of bacon.

"I heard you had an adventure all of your own after I left the Dragonlands. And plus don't forget the Northern attack with the clowns? That was an adventure you were fully present for."

Piggy eyes became darker and there was something in his gaze that gave Brat a small moment of ice up her spine. Samara was just behind him and had the same look in her eye as she looked over at Brat.

"I am glad you got him, glad you made him suffer. I want to hear how you castrated him, did he beg and cry? Did he break? Did you just take his cock or more? How did he look when he saw Gilly coming for him?"

Laughing uneasily, Brat muttered,

"I'll tell you all about it later on, okay? But I have to be prepared for this breakfast today. Raff and Polliver are going to come down on me for breaking the stupid rules. I don't have time for storytelling right now."

As if it never was there, Piggy's eyes became warmer and concerned.

Samara had turned and gone to start ladling things into bowls to set on the table. The maid and her daughter have left. Pepper will return after the Masters have eaten and Piggy starts to work for the day.

"I mean, why? You discovered a traitor and manage to neutralize him while getting revenge for all of us for the rest of his crimes. They should be applauding you!"

Piggy huffed and started to put the last of the food out and then take off his apron.

"I know, right?"

Brat was heading for her chair and trying to act as nonchalant as she could about the whole thing. Truth was, she was tense as hell and scared. She knew how Gregor punished and being left to the judgement and mercy of Raff and Polliver can't be any better than that. The amount of tortures they knew, it made her stressed out, just waiting for it.

Samara was gliding past her to dart past her to put a bowl of skillet potatoes on the table. Brat's memory of being attacked by Samara was fresh still.

So when the woman darted in front of her, Brat didn't think at all, just reacted. Her fist caught Samara square on the cheek and the girl fell with the bowl, shattering it.

"Oh shit. Reflexes. Maybe she shouldn't lunge around me so fucking much."

Piggy ran forward to help Samara up and he glared at Brat.

"Why'd you do that? Samara couldn't help what she did last night and you know that! It isn't a betrayal to you or anything, Brat! She has no choice, none at all. Hell, I have more freedom of choice than she does!"

It was perfect time for Polliver and Raff to enter the room and of course, they did.

Raff's eyes were on his girl with a swollen cheek trying to clean the mess on the floor with Piggy.

"What happened to my pet's face?"

Brat closed her eyes and groaned.

 

Joss listened carefully and was rewarded by hearing Gilly unlocking the door.

It slammed heavily behind her and another click then a small rustle before heavily treading down the long staircase. He pressed harder into the rock and found himself licking at his own shattered tooth, bleeding his tongue further.

It felt warm and nice compared to the cold rock around him. Suppressing a nervous giggle that wanted to leak out, Joss waited for the crazy cunt.

Gilly came down and smiled at the sight of Joss pressed, cringing against the wall. The tethered leash was hidden due to how closely Joss was huddled against the wall. She couldn't see the broken leash.

Waving excitedly to Joss, she called out merrily.

"Good morning, Bitch! I brought down stuff to play with you!"

Joss didn't move but he made a dreadful moaning sound of terror at the sight of all the tubing and the bottle of bleach Gilly was carrying.

"I figure you are rotten from the inside out. So let's clean out your insides!"

Gilly was nearly skipping in her glee and Joss sobbed but didn't move as she came closer with the items. He tensed and waited, waited. He suppressed another giggle and turned it into a sob and somehow he felt both emotions were true.

"Red fish, blue fish, mean fish, now a bitch fish."

Gilly softly whispered her little songs and rhymes as she approached. Joss cringed lower but made sure to hide broken leash and the one weapon he had enough time to grab.

A hand came reaching for him and he attacked.


	132. Kick Them Hard To Teach Them

Raff acted like Brat had kicked a puppy.

He cooed to his girl as he let her sit on his lap, holding ice to her face. Brat rolled her eyes as he hand fed Samara while the girl cuddled in to him.

Polliver made a point of roughly grabbing onto Piggy and fully checking him for bruising, much to Piggy's extreme embarrassment.

"Did she hurt you too, boy? If she tries to bully or hurt you, I give you permission to get your revenge on her."

Brat had laughed and started to force herself to eat her food.

"Are you going to break my Piggy's record?"

She looked at Polliver who was drinking his coffee while Piggy finished filling his plate.

"What does that mean? What record?"

"Well, Piggy tends to be the one to pick up a shovel and start digging himself a nice hole to get buried in. But you are starting to get up there. I mean, after what he and the girl did in the Dragonlands, I never thought anyone could reach his level of fuck up. And yet here you are proving me wrong."

Brat was momentarily distracted by watching Piggy get down on hands and knees to eat out of a dog bowl.

"Holy shit, Polliver! Are you going to turn Piggy into a rabid pit bull like Raff did to Samara?"

Raff's eyes burned and he slowly drawled out,

"She might be silent, dear but her ears work just fine. So do mine. Insult Samara again, touch her again without permission, I will come for you. You do not ever fuck with my property."

"See? Wow, okay, now I really see why you and Piggy were buddies. Keep digging, idiot. Piggy is being punished for forgetting his place. You know, kind of like what's going to happen to you. Castration, Arya? You castrated the man and sold him to a former assassin and current lunatic. Little Arya Stark has decided that our rules aren't good enough for her anymore. Tell me, what must it be like to be you? I mean, first you have status and you toss it all away to join us. Now you are willing to toss us away for status? You have barely finished training and you already think to challenge Raff for second in command? And your qualifications are that you are Gregor's adopted daughter and you managed to do something horrible to Joss. That's it. You want to put that next to Raff's fucking resume?"

Brat put down her silverware and stopped trying to force herself to eat. She'd only end up throwing it up when they tortured her. 

"Fine. I'll admit I broke your damned rules! Sorry, is that what you want to hear? Sorry, I broke the rules. But Joss deserved it. And I am deserving of a chance at second in command! Just like the two of you, if I see a chance to leap forward, I'm going to! So just get this over with. What is it going to be? A beat down? Rectal Hydration and ginger root?"

Raff and Polliver both smiled sweetly at Brat, the innocence shining from their eyes.

"Oh no. No, no, there is no need for that. We aren't like Gregor. In fact, this has nothing to do with Gregor, really. It has to do with the crew right here. Us that support him from underneath, yeah? You are one of us and you will fucking learn how to respect your fucking family. This here will be hands on training today and your punishment closes out the day for you. And depending on how your day goes, will decide what punishment you recieve."  

Polliver passed a small paper to Brat then kept eating, mirth nearly making him shake.

"We wrote down two different punishments. One if your day goes well, one if it doesn't. I am sure you can tell the difference."

Brat read the punishments and her stomach dropped.

 

 

**_WHACK!_ **

_"Focus! You have good fucking focus but this..this shit gets contained if you work for me! You are good, you are fucking great at what you do but I won't have your crazy getting in the way. You will meet Tickler next week and he can help you find a way to reign this shit in."_

This is what ran through Joss's head as he turned with his clenched weapon. His arms, oh gods, they hurt, the insulted, inflamed parts that keep him whole are screaming. At any moment, they might rebel, they might weaken and that would be it, Gilly will have him. 

To think, to feel, to act with these thoughts of worry, he would fail, surely would be gargling Clorox in moments. So Joss remembered that look of disgust on Gregor's face. He wasn't upset that Joss had literally torn apart a family that they were sent to torture and hold.

Joss had discovered that the family had too much information to allow them to live. Gregor was angry that Joss made the choice without asking first. He was angry that Joss lost control to his own appetites. He left way too much mess for it to be a warning.

The carnage was overkill and those that were to recieve the message would take offense rather than warning. Gregor had tortured him as punishment while teaching the whole time. Now Joss reaps that lesson. Focus, stay in control and focus at all costs.

With a growl from deep inside his shattered body, with strength born of pure desperation, Joss thrust his weapon at his target. Gilly's teeth shattered from the force of the steel dildo being forced down her throat. She had no time to do much, the bottle of bleach fell to the floor.

Crazy or not, Gilly was trained.

Ignoring the pain and fear of the metal tearing through her throat, taking away her breath, she grasped the tubing harder. As Joss bore her to the ground, she began to wrap the tubing quickly around Joss's throat. Gilly grinned as she clenched the tubing around his neck.

As Joss forced the dildo as far down her throat as it would go, he pressed the button. Gilly's eyes opened wide and froth bubbled down her chin as she seized. Joss's own throat clenched shut as Gilly's tubing was still in her hand as she jerked about. He cackled soundlessly.

Struggling to breathe, Joss pressed the button. He joyfully reached down and began to dig out her eyeballs with his dirty fingers as she rode yet another round of electricity. If he dies while torturing and killing Gilly, so be it.

She shrieked around the metal lodged deep in her throat, giving her neck a swelled grotesque look. Gilly let go of the tubing to clap hands over her eye sockets.

Joss flung her eyes across the room and uncoiled the tubing. Flinging himself away from her, he staggered to his feet.

He allowed her to yank the dildo out of her mouth and crawl about the floor, screaming about her eyes. Staggering, sobbing and laughing, he headed for her torture shelves.

No, no wait, focus.

He took some deep breaths. There was no way he can spend the time he wants to destroy Gilly. He doesn't know her schedule, who might visit later. She is also one of Waif's girls. Even now, wounded and blinded, she is already on her feet holding onto a weapon.

He is on limited time anyway, he knows this. If this crazy didn't kill him, his own pack will soon enough. By now, they know. If they allowed this, they know he is their traitor. So all that is left is revenge before death. First Gilly, then Brat. If he is lucky enough to get more, all the better.

Oh, how he wished he could speak without slurring and drooling every word. He likes to talk when he hurts and kills. No, focus. So he did, he focused on killing her and getting the job done.

He focused and it didn't take long for him to find a chainsaw.

Grinning, he took off the hand in which Gilly was clenching a blade from her belt. As the blind ragged girl screeched and tried to staunch the blood from her wrist, he started to sing. He sang the entire first three songs from American Idiot as he sawed off her other hand and then her feet.

Joss focused until he caught sight of the blood stained hammer and slowly grinned. Then he lost his fucking mind.

 

Brat kept that little piece of paper in her pocket, it was certainly incentive enough.

The shit eating grins on their faces as they explained the game for the day. Oh, it preyed on her mind and nibbled away at her ego all day.

In spite of being bullied, beaten, trained, shot, dropped from heights, kidnapped and technically she has been sold three times now, _this_ was the day she considers the worst of her life.

"You think you are ready to rule the roost? That all the judgements you make are flawless, unbiased and educated enough to be solid? Well, then, prove it, my dear. Show us, little sister that you are worthy of the claims you are making. If you can prove that to us, then we will consider you made a good judgement call. We will give you the lesser punishment for breaking our rules and let it go. I will consider you a worthy opponent to challenge me for second in command."

Raff and Polliver had stood then as one and started towards her. Quickly, Brat had scrambled to her feet and backed away, hands out defensively.

"Of course, if you aren't as good as you say...that is a whole different story. See, if you can't manage to prove to us that you aren't just a high class version of my Piggy...."

Polliver had spread his arms out and gave a malicious smile as Brat shuddered.

"If you aren't what you claim to be, you not only get the other punishment but you will stand the fuck down. You will NOT challenge Raff's position. You will follow orders, you will support his claim and you will continue to fucking learn, like you should. I personally created one of these punishments. Did you guess which one yet? I ain't telling if you haven't."

Brat was pretty sure which one he created and didn't respond to the jibe. They were looming over her now and she was trying not to panic. 

"You will spend the day doing our jobs. If you can do them to the level we do, you win. If you don't, well..."

 

Olenna tried to delicately drink her tea and her finger cramped. She swore silently and damned her doctor for not curing this tremor. He told her it was advanced arthritis, to take medications for the pain. Yes, what a wonderful idea!

Except Olenna  watched her own son take medications. He had a football accident, a terrible one that required three surgeries and the loss of playing ever again. This cost more than that, what it really cost was her son's whole life.

He became addicted to the pain killers and no amount of rehab or beatings fixed it. Then Loras, he didn't even get them by tragic accident like his father. No, just a party and a new girl who had some pills.

So she told the doctor to keep his damned pain pills and just give her the ones that handle the swelling. Besides, Olenna wasn't so sure that it was arthritis. It was a growing tremor in her muscles from stress, strain and fear.

Like any other great Southern family that survived the Lannisters. For the first time they were on their own. Jackals have started attacking, sensing the weaknesses.

Olenna regrets that she ended things so abruptly with Gregor.

But how was she to know he would explode,literally exterminate half the North? He tore it apart and the survivors are stupid enough to thank him for it and catapult him upwards. It was smart of him though to make sure he was the only one to help them.

A few different areas did try to offer relief services and were turned back quickly and with force if needed. Media was allowed though, oh yes. And what a show they received. It looked like Gregor was the humanitarian from the Riverlands just trying to help his fellow man through a terrible time.

Turning on the news, Olenna waited for her butler to bring her the cheese she snacked on frequently. Probably too much but at her age, what more can bring pleasure than food? Dragging herself out of her pitiful musing, Olenna heard something on the television and snorted.

"Well, now the world is ending and I have lived to see it."

A door shut and footsteps were coming forward heavily.

"I was wondering when you would be stopping by. I just heard your good news, congratulations. You have managed to turn our entire system upside down."

Olenna stood up and faced Gregor.

"Nice suit. Nice shoes. You even smell wonderful! That is certainly new and now I see why you are able to fake this charm of yours. I rather liked you just smelling and grunting like some King Kong. You were more honest back then, it was refreshing to see in my jaded world. Well, what shall it be? Please kill me with some dignity. I deserve to go out in a way that doesn't put me in some show depicted as the most bizarre of goriest death of the years. I will say that I appreciate you doing it yourself and not sending Polliver who would send me off with a terrible joke ringing in my ears."

A smile very slowly appeared on Gregor's face.

"I'm not here to kill you dear, no. At least this discussion might not end that way. Depends. First question, has Joss been working for you all this time?"

Olenna shrugged and used her cane to bring her tea cup to the larger table. She awkwardly tried to grasp the teakettle. Gasping, Olenna watched as a very large hand covered her own.

"Did he?"

"Yes. That creepy insect was desperate for validity and you weren't apparently giving it fast enough. So he turned upon you. He was supposed to return here and never did. I assumed him dead. No loss, really. Not at this point."

"He isn't dead yet. He will be, one way or another. If he shows here, I want you to call me right away. He is going to be very angry and very deadly."

A low chuckle and Olenna has regained her composure.

"Are you concerned for my safety, Gregor? That is so very touching, dear. Would you mind pouring my tea for me? Old hands, they don't work sometimes."

Olenna slipped her hand out from under Gregor's and she sat down at the table. If he was going to kill her, it would have happened by now. And Gregor wouldn't have come here himself just to ask about Joss. He would have sent Polliver or Raff for that.

Gregor smirked and with ease poured Olenna's tea and gave it to her.

"Yours is the only house I can still enter without being shot here in the South now. I need a Southern friend, a contact to work through. I have united the Riverlands and the North as one. I am sure you can see the potential for trades and profits for you already."

"You think I alone have the power to turn the South from wanting to black ball you? You murdered an entire southern family line! Despised or not, the Lannisters were our version of royalty, of an empire. We watched as every member of the family died and the who should rise but his bodyguards? Add the fact that you blew up the North to take it. Gregor, you are the boogeyman to these people. The poor violent commoners don't get to rise this high, sweet boy. It scares them that you will come here and change our structure next."

"I am the boogeyman. But right now I don't to take over the South, I want to work and trade with it. I need someone to be my good little Southern cheerleader. And you my dear...are it. Among a few others that I will make sure speak with you and help you in any way you need."

"The sight of me in a cheerleader outfit will only cause a riot of the likes you've never seen. However, at my age, with no family left, I am the end of it. I have lost everything but my riches, my estate. It's lonely and depressing. I will take the challenge but without the cheerleader costume, thank you very much. So what is your official title anyway? Since the two lands have never been united before, you have to give yourself a new title. Emperor? King Gregor? Marshal Clegane?"

"Governor."

 

 

 


	133. That One Really Shitty Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Malcolm, do NOT eat while reading this.

Joss lay there for a very long time.

He lay in the filth of what used to be a woman. Watching the little window grow bright. Everything hurt so badly, too badly, why bother trying to move and hurt more. A huge shuddering sob tore through him and he began to pull himself up. He dragged his body to a upright position and was interrupted by several more shuddering breaths.

A terrible moan escaped his lips with every step he took. For a moment he almost decided to give up. Surely there was something down here he could take to end this quickly. The lizard part of him, that cold surviving gene from long past in another time era slithered up his spine. It settled comfortably in his brain and took over the body functions. He knelt next to the mess of Gilly.

He couldn't tell where her pockets or belt might have been. Joss had slammed down that hammer for some time in a blind rage. The floor was a mess of unidentifiable human parts and squashed organs, flesh, it was a true nightmare of a clean up. Joss cackled and bent over swirling through the muck, trying to find the belt. Howling in triumph, it took his slick fingers some time to get the key out of the gore covered belt.

Joss dropped the key twice, he stumbled, finally he just crawled to the stairs. Grasping the banister, Joss made his way up the stairs, staring at the door. Focus, focus, focus, walk up the stairs. Get to the fucking door and get out. Fuck, it hurts like hell, everything hurts and he needs water. He needs to just focus and get up the stairs. Focus. Dammit, just focus.

His arms were on fire, his shoulders, there was a growing strange loose feeling he is trying to ignore.

Sobbing, he tried to force the key into the hole of the lock with slippery, weak, shaking fingers. Third time, he dropped the key down the stairs. That time Joss screamed as if he were a two year old that needed a nap. When he missed the hole and dropped the key again, he cried like a newborn. Even though the key had only fallen a few steps down.

He heavily sat down upon the splintered old stair. Staring at the dully shining key, Joss sobbed and put his head against the wall. Focus was lost, pain and weakness were winning this time. Maybe just sit here a bit, then get the key, he mused, shutting his eyes.

When the door above him opened, Joss had almost dozed out. He blinked and stared up at his rescuer. Then he tried to speak but it wasn't very clear due to his broken jaw.

"Fuck my life. It's not fair."

Waif smiled down at him, impressed at Gilly's work.

"I'm glad Gilly got a chance to really work you over. However, you have some unfinished business elsewhere. Don't worry, I'll patch you up a bit, give you some water. Gregor knows what you've done, dear. He has decided your fate and who shall carry it out."

 

"Can you ask Polliver to leave my mom alone?"

Piggy nearly dropped the mixing bowl.

"What? No! I'm sorry...listen. Look, see the collar, sweetie? That means HE tells ME what to do, Pepper. I'm sorry if he's bothering your mom. I wish I could help, I really do."

Cursing Polliver in his head, Piggy brought the newly mixed cookie dough to Samara to shape along with Pepper.

"I think they were trying to keep it real quiet, like a secret. I had to get up and pee, drank too much juice last night. So I was heading for the bathroom and I heard noise in the servants den. I didn't go inside but I heard them. It didn't sound like my mom was happy. And when she came back to our room, I saw her crying as she got ready for bed."

Piggy and Samara shot each other an agonized look before looking at anything else in the room.

"Can you do something? I know you can be mean and scary and dangerous. Please?"

Trying to hide behind her hair, Samara shook her head.

"She can't because her Master is my Master's best friend. Conflict of interest there. The best we can do is keep you safe in here. I tried to ask if your mom could help in the kitchen with us and was told no. But even then, if Polliver came in and took her out, I couldn't stop it. I'm really sorry, I wish I could. And Polliver is an asshole but he won't, he won't like really hurt her. He won't punch her or break her bones or anything."

Piggy hated being so blunt with a young girl but best she understand how things work now. He had visions of the girl trying to yell at Polliver to leave her mom alone.

"You have to just accept it like your mom does, okay? You can loathe it and hate him all you want, but you don't bring it to him or Raff. They find you amusing and that is the best you can hope for around here. Now help Samara with these cookies. Oh gods, Samara! Why, why, would you do that?"

Laughing out loud, Samara showed Pepper the entire row of eerily correct cookies that all looked like Piggy's head.

 

Brat wanted to die. She wasn't suicidal normally but she was tilted there today. Rectal infusion would have been better than any part of her day.

First she was to attend Raff's duties with him shadowing her but not actually assisting unless needed. Her afternoon would be spent with Polliver.

She attended a tea meeting with high society ladies of Frey and Tully. Her outfit, hairstyle and makeup made her look like a clown that went into the wrong room. Raff was charming in his suit and he smoothly tried to introduce Arya Stark aka Brat to the women.

He explained to Arya the work that the ladies do for both charity and their works within their own dear Riverlands. With the hierarchy gone, all the men gone, the women have been learning and finally taking control of their own homes and communities. 

These were not the same tired drawn and somewhat reclusive women that Arya remembered seeing at rare functions as a child. They were women that were smart, driven and purposeful with their demands to better their community while helping out in the North. Brat could certainly admire and respect that.

However, these women were still high class, they were born into society. Even if the houses were dominated and repressed by their men they were expected to be and act a certain way. 

"That is a very colorful outfit, dear. Tell me, how old are you again, Ms. Stark?"

She was discounted by her looks and age instantly. Raff leaned back and let the women have their meeting. They rapid fired questions at Brat, who repeatedly rifled through Raff's folders to try and answer.  

"Viserys, we do not mind a touch of humor but this has gone far enough. Why is this clownish girl trying to do your job here? This is important work to us, to everyone we help. We have roads that need repair that we can barely afford. The schools need more computers, the shelters are too full in the North and I hear that they are busing them here. This is a real problem, Vis. We only have four shelters and only one of them accepts women and children. What are we to do with the influx? The girl is a distraction and useless. Either join the conversation yourself or this meeting is over."

Winking at Brat, Raff moved his chair forward and smiled.

"I'm sorry, ladies. Being Gregor's adopted daughter, he wants her to learn and try to take on every position. Now, I think we can let her take a break and get us all some coffee while we discuss these concerns."

An hour later Brat was sitting again. This time at a long table in a large room that was made to look more like a court room. Both sides of the room had places where folks could get water, coffee or tea and even sit down. Have a drink and watch the show.

As if he were a feudal lord, Raff sits at the table and hears complaints, requests and more for two hours twice a week.

"Your father wants us to get in touch with the common folks as much as we can. Some of them can't read or write, how are they supposed to get assistance these days? Half the places here have shut down, remember? So they come here and we see if we can assist them in their problems. Even my slaves are allowed to come here if they dare to ask something."

Brat sat next to him and watched as the room filled up. The line began and she swallowed hard. The first few were quite easy. Questions about getting death certificates for husbands that never came home from the North.

Brat noticed that a collared woman that stood near boxes and file cabinets. When Brat requested it the women looked up and found the forms needed.

"Fill it out and bring it back, we shall see that you recieve your certificates as soon as possible."

A few boring ones concerning receiving permits for selling produce, real estate arguments that Brat couldn't comprehend and had to ask Raff to help her with. Raff didn't hold it against her and simply whispered to explain to her how it worked. He sat back afterwards and continued to just observe.

A few arguments between neighbors, a few arguments between retailers and then some requests from widows on receiving assistance for their children.

Raff raised an eyebrow when he saw one of his own slaves creep forward, head down. The slave near him holding folders made a gasping sound. Brat leaned forward, elbows on the table and grinned.

She might have a way for a little revenge upon the smug Raff.

"I..I am very sorry to take up this time. I..when we went to the Lannisters and lived working in the large house..."

Brat raised her hand slightly and smiled.

"Excuse me? You can look at me, talk to me, not Raff. I am in charge today, so I will render any decisions on your problem. So please, take your time and speak your mind freely."

The man did not look up at her but he did address her.

"Yes, Ma'am. Uh, my Master had given permission for my girl and I to marry. My girl is Master's property as well, of course. We have been very careful to never let our marriage interfere in our work or loyalty to our Master. Not ever. But we...something, an accident. She is pregnant and I am here to beg our Master's permission to have the baby."

Raff leaned forward slightly and gave his own slave a charming smile.

"Well, what luck you have today! Today Brat is training to be the leader here. So today all decisions are hers to make including this one. And Brat, please remember, if the child is born, it's born a slave and stays one."

Wonderful. If she says they can have their child then she is responsible for bringing a child into slavery. If she denies the man, she is forcing a woman into an abortion she doesn't want. How twisted and Brat chewed her mind into pieces.

Brat leaned forward.

"Does your wife want this child? Why isn't she here too?"

The man winced at that. 

"I didn't tell her I was coming to ask. She has become fearful recently. When she is working, she cries sometimes, so afraid that someone will take away her child."

The slave near Raff suddenly snapped her head up at a file and quickly brought it to her Master. Reading it, he grinned then leaned back. He put the file on the table near Brat.

But the girl was drowning in the man's emotion.

"I will allow you to have the child."

Raff waited until the elated man left.

"You have utterly failed on that one."

Brat snorted.

"You are just angry that I let him have a child you will have to pay for since you own it."

"No, I am not angry, do you think it's the only time I have had marriages or children happen? You didn't read the file on Orn. Look, I have a folders on each of my slaves. Here is Orn's. Look, this is his fourth slave wife and this will make his eighth child. His oldest ones, three strapping boys already are working for Polliver at the wall. I allow the younger ones schooling at home. But they start working as soon as they are able to. And that is what you have subjected this latest child to. He fucks his wives until they can't breed and moves to the next. You just gave him permission to make another slave to get a bare education and then serve till he or she dies. Should we really consider that a good choice?" 

Polliver had smiled broadly when Brat stomped over tiredly.

"How was your day so far? Did you show Raff how good you are? Was he amazed or impressed? Is he on the phone to Gregor saying what a prodigy you are? No? Well, let's get you to work so I can rest and watch you dig yourself a nice hole." 

 

Piggy made another joke and Samara's throaty laugh joined Pepper's. Boxes of lunches including sandwiches, fruit and cookies lined the counter. Raff walked into the kitchen and Pepper got a shocked look on her face at Samara's reaction.

As always, Samara dropped and crawled to Raff's shoe and kissed it.

"Good girl. Have you kept very busy?"

Samara nodded as Raff stroked fingers on her chin. He walked over to his usual seat and told her to get him coffee. She nearly ran to do so and when she brought it back she knelt beside him, laying her head on his knee.

"Good girl. Did you get all your chores done yet?"

The girl started to nod then froze. Cringing with a small shine she gave a small shake to her head.

"No? What did you not get done? You may speak, sweetheart."

Raff's voice sounded so loving and warm, Pepper saw clearly that it terrified Samara.

"Please forgive me, Master. I..I have not polished your other shoes yet."

"Why didn't you, honey? Did Master leave a list too big and complicated for a doggie to understand?"

Samara flinched and started to cry.

"I was helping Piggy and Pepper make cookies. I forgot the time, Master. I'm sorry, I will go polish them right now, please!"

Raff stood up and Samara groveled at his feet. He pulled out a small device with a button and pressed it. Samara yelped as the shock collar did it's job. Raff opened his mouth but before he could speak Pepper was flying across the room. Piggy had tried to grab her with no success.

She stood in front of Samara facing Raff defiantly.

"Don't shock her! She worked really hard all day! She always stays quiet and works hard! Samara worships you and acts like a dog for you just to make you happy! How can you treat her like that? Don't hit her again!"

Piggy fluttered near Pepper.

"Pepper! No! You can't interfere, remember? We talked about that. Come help me make supper for the Masters or go take a rest but you need to get out of Raff's way. Please!"

Samara simply went around the girl and wrapped herself around Raff's leg, hoping to appease him both of her mistake and Pepper's.

Raff smirked then petted her head briefly while staring at Pepper.

"Does it look like the slave wants your protection? That is what Samara is, MY SLAVE. My property to do with as I wish. You are a cute little girl, amusing, but you are overstepping yourself. That seems to be happening a lot. Let me help you understand your place versus mine."

Piggy groaned and tried to reach out to grab Pepper's arm. He hoped Raff might just let him drag the girl off. Raff shot Piggy a fiery look and he dropped the girl's arm as if burned.

"Go make supper, Piggy."

Nodding, Piggy turned and went to obey, loathing himself as much as Raff the whole time. Raff bent down to put his face nearly into the girl's.

"Now, I am the second in command to the most ruthless, deadly and now rich man who owns both North and Riverlands. I am also the son of a very rich and famous man who is the descendant of kings. I am also a slaver, I own several people whose lives are literally in my hands. My kill list is quite impressive too. Now, let's look at you and your family. Your father was a rapist who had no interest in the bastard of a maid he fucked. Your mother is a maid and labeled a whore by her own employees, who despise her and you. They let her stay only so that they could deliberately make your lives hell. They demoted her, her only use besides cleaning is to be something soft and complaint for Polliver to rape. The only use we have for you is that you amuse our pets and you can bake cookies. So do you see how much lower your place is than mine? And your place and your mother's can change very quickly. Watch your attitude, girl or else maybe you'll find yourself either out on the street or with a collar around your tiny neck."  


	134. Hard As Nails

After Raff scared the girl half to death and gave his bad pet a quick few swats with the very shoes she didn't polish, he went out. He found Orn at a bar nearby already spending his money without it even being in his pocket yet.

"You almost fucked it up. Good thing Brat doesn't know my slaves that well. Any of mine dared to ask me for anything in such a forward way, they'd be missing their tongue in moments. Here's your money, now buy me a drink."

Raff finished his drink before asking,

"Did that package arrive for me?" 

Orn nodded and took Raff to the parking lot. 

 

Pepper and her mother came into the kitchen to eat their dinner before the betters all had theirs. The servants of the other section of the house were making supper for the ladies and children of the home. Taking turns to run to their own downstairs kitchen to eat.

Piggy had already set aside their meal for them on the table and continued his cooking while they ate. Samara crept in and had a small limp. She silently began to help Piggy. 

"You should leave."

The sudden words made the mother drop her fork.

"What?"

Piggy and Samara came over to the table.

"You need to leave this place. It isn't going to get safer for you, it's going to get worse. You are trapped between a rock and a hard place, I know. You can't stay here, there is no one to protect you. You are a target for my Master and now Pepper has made herself a target for Raff. Listen, girl, do you know why Samara is like this? Why she isn't allowed to speak without permission? Because she was like you, an older version that ran her mouth and made the mistake of challenging Raff over something. Look what happened to her! And lady, I am like this, because when Polliver challenged me, I gave in, I did whatever he said so he wouldn't kill me. Look at me! Look at Samara! This is your future if you don't run, get it? Leave while you can. Tomorrow morning go to Mrs. Frey and tell her you are quitting. Let her laugh you all the way out the door if you need to, but go. That way it won't look like escape to our Masters and they won't chase you down. Better to face the ladies then be hunted by Polliver and Raff, trust me. Eat, then go to your room, lock your door and pack. Please, this is the only way we can help you, protect you."

Samara thrust a full pack of dry goods and what other few supplies she could steal at the girl. Then she pointed outside to a small deserted shed no one ever uses. Pepper nodded, looking pale and sad then she ran to go hide the back pack.

"Thank you for all you have tried to do for us. We'll go. My pride isn't worth it, her isn't either."

 

Polliver and Brat came back just before dinner.

She stormed upstairs to shower and change before eating while Polliver entered the kitchen. There was no need to let them gloat as Polliver announced to Raff that she failed him too.

Fuck! It wasn't her fault! It wasn't as if she were trained in these things she was thrown into today. But that was the driven point. That she wasn't trained enough for any of this.

How was she to know the wall section would fall into the moat?

She checked the blueprints twice and spoke to the engineer yet, somehow she overlooked an entire support beam? Brat cursed and ripped her outfit off and threw it across the room.

Getting into her shower she fiercely scrubbed the make up off of her face. Maybe the ladies would have reacted to a bare scar better? No, then they would have just been disgusted.

Now she has a terrible price to pay for getting shown wrong.

Her ego is already crushed, what's left. Brat laughed then at her own pathetic thoughts. Good grief, her parents didn't raise a quitter and Gregor wouldn't either! Okay, tonight will suck, suck so badly but it won't maim or kill her. As she began to dry off she recalled the two punishments.

If she had managed to prove her worth, the boys would let her step up. After her twenty lashes with Raff's whip for breaking their rules.

If Brat failed in proving herself there full equal if not better, she has to step down herself and support Raff's claim instead. The last line of the punishment simply say, "And you get fucked." That part worries and repulses Brat as much as having to surrender her right to challenge.

 

Supper was awkward. Brat sat pushing her food around while Raff and Polliver smugly ate fast, exictied for the later events. Samara and Piggy ate silently while thinking loud worried thoughts for their new friends.

"Well, if everyone is done eating, I think we should all head out to the yard. Polliver, get the leashes for the pets. I think they will enjoy this."

Brat stared at Raff.

"No way. I'll call Gregor right now! You can't make me let Piggy and Samara rape me too! It's going too far then!"

With a burst of laughter, the men pointed at Brat.

"Rape? You thought we'd rape you? Oh gods, you aren't our type, sweetheart, no offense. No one wants to rape you, Scarface. Come on, we are going to the yard and you'll see your punishment. I promise no one is going to rape you. The note never said you would be raped, it said you'd be fucked."

 

The yard was lit by torches and the stone walls and statues made it feel almost otherworldly.

Piggy sulked over wearing the leash and crawling but at least the grass was soft. He crawled and his nose filled with the smell of new cut grass and when he pulled his head up to catch the breeze, his nose was soothed by the fading scent of lilacs.

Nearing the end of the yard, heading for the stone wall and small wooden door at the end, they finally stopped. There was a large wooden crate and a crowbar leaning against it.

"Ah, here we go! Brat, I hope you can appreciate the level of trouble I had to go through today for this. In fact, Polliver had to use his own leftover drug money to pay Waif for her trouble! It was his idea after all, your day and the other punishment was mine."

Polliver grinned as he let go of Piggy's leash and walked forward. He began to speak while Raff opened the crate.

"Whatever weapons you have on you I want. Stay still while I pat you down, don't try and lie, we both know you have knives. There, four of them, impressive."

He moved himself and the pets back from her so the three of them were blocking the way out of the small block section of the yard. Raff grinned as he removed the box cover slowly.

"Now, here comes your punishment and you are indeed fucked."

Raff moved the cover and Joss stumbled out of the crate, already swinging and hissing. Brat sucked in her breath and moaned. Oh yeah, she was fucked.

The wrapped gauze that covered most of Joss's head and face didn't hide the eyes burning with anger, vengeance and a sort of focused madness. He was naked, his body was washed, he was bruised everywhere, gashes, cuts and between his legs was a huge bloody bandage.

Joss tried to cover himself when he saw Raff grinning at him.

Can't he even have the decency of clothing before Raff and Polliver torture and murder him? It's not fair, it is not fair, dammit. Then Joss saw Brat, he saw her and FOCUS!

Gregor's words grabbed Joss and he focused, never even feeling the sudden slick soaking the gauze wrapped around his chin.

Making snarling garbled sounds, Joss rushed towards her, watching Brat back up and scream for her weapons.

Polliver stood nearby but gave nothing, just smiled and watched. Good enough, before he dies they are letting him have her. Fine. He didn't expect them to offer him justice for what Brat had done. They have and Joss is more grateful than he can say.

Brat managed to evade him, then flip him but Joss came right back, panting, bleeding and not caring how injured he was. The next time Joss came for her, she got two punches in before he got her down. One good haymaker did the trick.

Joss ripped the gauze off his face. 

He landed on her and his spider hands, broken and trembling began to feel her everywhere even as his teeth tore into her shoulder. Brat howled at her flesh ripping from jagged teeth. Worse were the fingers on her nipples, traveling her stomach and forcing their way into her pants.

The desperate trembling fingers felt like the bristling legs of some vile bug crawling along her body. As if roaches were trying to invade her vagina. Taking a deep breath, Brat went still and waited for her chance. As soon as Joss ripped out a chunk from her shoulder, he raised his head.

Her palm connected hard into his nose and broke it. She swore as he moved back, she had meant to drive the bone into his brain. While Joss keened for a moment, Brat attacked. S

he shoved hard then buried her face in the ruin that was his groin. Brat showed Joss that two can play the biting game.

Polliver and Raff both winced at that. Their cheering became wails of "Oh come on! Why do you always go for our dicks? What's wrong with you?"

Joss's eyes bulged and when he screamed, his jaw made a terrible clacking sound before somehow sinking too low.

It was creepy and Brat crawled away fast, spitting out blood and flesh.

With a horrific growling sound, Joss was squirming after her, his jaw hanging, teeth jagged and glinting in the torchlight. His tongue wagged restlessly and his hands have morphed into Gilly's claws, ripping up earth and grass to reach his prey.

Brat managed to get to her feet and she ran. Fuck this, no way. She ran to leave the little yard but she slammed into something that shoved her back. It was Piggy, his small eyes gleaming.

"I'm sorry. You can't leave. Kill that fucker, Brat. You know what he is, what he's done. Give me justice and kill that asshole. Polliver said you can't leave."

With a cry of frustration Brat shoved Piggy and then she felt her shirt grabbed and pull her back.


	135. Rises and Falls

Piggy was growling, his teeth were bared and his eyes were pinned on Joss. His fists were curled as he relived every second of every fucking asshole like Joss or Tickler.

Brat was trying her best but that man knew how to hurt. Joss ignored her jabs and kicks, concentrating on distracting her with pain, with scare tatics and it was working.

He bore her slowly down and that is when Piggy lost his own mind for the first time. Polliver gave grunt of surprise when Piggy flew forward and attacked Joss.

"PIGGY! Hey, no! Not your turn!"

Polliver had to wrench the boy off before Joss hurt him.

He carried the angry, straining boy back to his place and got a firm hold on his leash.

Samara was crouched and growling as well but she didn't move an inch. Nevertheless, Raff tightened his grip on her leash. He has never seen these two react to a person at the same time like this. Even the slaves at his father's didn't elicit this response from them.

Raff smirked about that then caught Polliver's look. Nodding, Raff called out,

"Brat? Would you like some help? Do you need any help from us or are you still good? All you have to do is ask, little sister."

A scream burst forth after a moment.

"Yes! Yes! Fuck you!"

Polliver scratched his head and watched idly as Joss started to attempt to bite Brat's ear.

"Yes? Yes what? I mean, I get the fuck you part clearly enough. But yes, you want help? Or yes, you are good?"

Raff yawned and started to use his boot to soothe Samara, running his sharp heel against her trembling flank.

"Yes, help me! I can't kill him by myself, help me!"

Raff let go of Samara's leash with a sharp command to stay.

He ran forward and kicked Joss's head like a football, knocking him off her.

Polliver tied Piggy's leash to the fence post, not trusting the boy to obey on his own like this. Then Polliver picked up speed and gave another powerful kick to Joss's side, then a few less powerful kicks to make sure he stayed down.

"Fucking traitor! Bad enough to take our property, bad enough to fuck up my Piggy! He doesn't listen cause of your fucking bullshit, he's gone all stupid again because of you!"

Polliver administered a few more punishing kicks. Then he stomped on Joss's kneecap, shattering it.

"But then...you take from Gregor? The very fucking man who took you in, sheltered, clothed and fed you? You deserved everything those girls did to you, hear me? I hope it was fucking agony, I hope it made you cry like a baby. I hope it fucking destroyed you inside."

Raff had pulled Brat out of the way and scanned her fast for any serious injuries. He had been careful to keep watch for such a thing and Brat was battered and bloody but not badly. It didn't look like she even had a single broken bone. Minor patching and she will be fine.

He stood Brat up and grabbed her face with his hands so she couldn't look away from him.

"What do I want to hear?"

"You are second in command. I won't challenge you for it. I will support you and train."

"Right. You will train and learn from us. When you have trained and learned enough, what do think happens then?"

"Then I get to challenge you for second in command."

"Wrong. You'll never be second in command, Brat. If I get myself killed then Polliver will replace me. When you have learned and trained well enough that you could challenge me and win...that is when your father knows you are ready to train with him. Because when he retires or dies, who do you think replaces him? His daughter. And when you rise past me, I'll be protecting you and taking my orders from you. Perhaps you should have looked at the logic instead of just rashly trying to challenge me. Next time maybe you should just take the lecture and learn from it. Go see the Frey's doctor, get patched up and go to bed. We will take care of killing Joss."

 

Brat let the pain medication the doctor gave her time to kick in before she began the long trek to her room. She lay on her bed not caring that she was still filthy. Okay, I'm going to have ten minutes of self pity, she promised herself. It was more like thirty minutes but who was counting? After that, Brat staggered up and managed to shower, dry off and nearly crawl over to her bed.

She was dead tired, head was floating but she couldn't sleep. Dragging herself back up, Brat went to sit at her desk and idly wandered the internet on her laptop. Anything not to think, not to feel right now. Then the cell phone came to mind. She went to get Dusten's cell to hear the last message.

By the end of it, Brat was puking into her desk wastebasket.

 

Joss snarled up at Polliver and Raff but he stopped trying to regain his feet. Raff smiled benevolently down at Joss. He stayed just out of reach, but bent down.

"Can we talk? I mean, we really never talked much or hung out. We were always so busy and when we weren't, well, I fucking despised you. Always creepy, like a fucking insect, why would any girl want to be fucked by an insect? I love to hurt my prey too, Joss, not like you do, but I am not too far off from it. I never cared what you or Tickler did. But when you bring your shit home? I have to get involved then, Joss. I mean, you don't shit where you eat. You messed with property that belonged to your brother. You stole from the very man that fed you, that you gave loyalty to. You gave away our secrets to our enemies. Tonight is your execution. I'm just trying to make sure we do it the right way. Couldn't let Gilly kill you, that isn't justice. Oh, before you ask, no, I didn't give Brat permission to castrate you or to sell you to Gilly. Can't say I am sad that she did it though. Knowing you are a traitor, I'm fine with what Brat did."

Polliver grinned and circled Joss.

"We have a perfect ending for you, Joss. You gibbering fucking lunatic, you sick piece of shit."

He moved fast and broke Joss's left arm while Raff darted forth and wrench the right one out of the socket.

Because the arm had so recently been wrenched out then slammed back in, the socket gave in. The arm gave a ripping, squelching sound and slid completely out of the socket, weakened cartilage, tendons and filaments ripping, tearing away.

Joss screamed and blacked out. Raff turned on the garden hose and sprayed him until he woke up, flailing, thrashing. Polliver smiled at Raff.

"His arms are out of commission and he has a broken kneecap. Think that's enough of a handicap for safety's sake?"

Raff nodded and Polliver nodded and walked away, whistling.

He got something out of a garden shed and came back with a shovel. Piggy had been intently watching Joss and was startled to see Polliver untying his leash. Then unlatching it and handing him the shovel. Grabbing a handful of Piggy's hair, Polliver dragged him towards Joss.

"He is your executioner. You deserve to die by the lowest of us. You deserve to die by the hands of someone you hurt, you deserved everything you've gotten. Go on, Piggy. He's yours and this better improve your fucking attitude!"

Polliver shoved Piggy forward. The boy had a slow growing smile that ate his face.

He firmly grasped the shovel and ran forward with a warrior's cry. Samara howled eerily and clawed at the dirt and grass as Piggy gave this strange squealing sound that undulated in the air. The combined sound made a strange song as the shovel began to thunk. 

 

Later that night, after the pets were sent to clean up and sleep, Raff and Polliver sat in the living room. They had just finished a conference call with Gregor. It was confirmed that Raff was second in command officially. It was also confirmed officially that Gregor was the Governor of both North and Riverlands. 

They were celebrating with whiskey and a few drugs since they didn't exactly live in a home that promoted partying. At least not yet.

Gregor is staying in the North, his main home will be there. Raff and Polliver have full run of the Riverlands. Gruffly, Gregor said he will make an official announcement in a few days as to what Raff and Polliver's public titles will be.

Brat came downstairs and looked pale as hell.

"Well, this is a surprise. Did you turn humble enough to actually join us in our hour of glory? We just spoke with Gregor."

Raff smirked then frowned slightly as Brat came forward holding a phone he knew.

"I'm turning vegetarian as of today, I think. Uh, Waif sent this to us, she said they found it in the swamp area behind where the Barracks had been. It's Dusten's phone and it has the world's worst butt call on it. Listen."

 

At first it was muffled sounds, water splashing, it sounded like a terrible struggle.

Dusten's voice growling and screeching at someone to speak or die. Piggy's voice pleading, begging, saying that Dusten was killing, drowning Samara and to please stop. Then a hard thud, garbled noises and sounds. Someone heaving and coughing.

  Then the recording became chilling in its sudden silence. A voice came next. It was Piggy having a conversation by himself. Even though they are aware it must be Samara he is talking with, it is terrifying to hear one person carry a two person discussion.

"He's dead. Oh gods, you killed him. We have to...hide him! No, we can't beg for mercy and tell the truth! YOU KILLED RAFF'S COWORKER, KEVAN'S SON."

"Breathe, breathe, we can do this, think it through. Yes, I have an idea. I think so, no."

"How can you think of food at a time like this? I'm hungry too, yeah. Wait. We are going to hell but..I have an idea. Yeah, listen this is what we need from that old shed out back, okay? I was a part time butcher, I know how to do this."

The comments and the grisly sound of sawing and cutting began.

"Soup, stew, casserole, burgers, ribs, we can hide him for quite awhile."

A rusty laugh from Samara and Piggy giggled.

"This is the most evil prank in the world. Can you already see their faces loving the food? Hey, there are tribes out there that honor their dead by eating them. Or at least there used to be. So they could also be honoring their lost one...right? Too bad we can't do that, you're right! Imagine how awesome it would be if Kevan DID come to dinner? That's a good one, Samara."

"If we get caught? They'll kill us. Of course, they'll kill us."

"I know you love Raff, honey, but he doesn't love you back, he'd kill you in a second. Rip your throat right out, or maybe if you are really lucky, he'll just break your neck."

"Polliver? He'll probably shoot me in the head or maybe throw me off the quarry edge. However he does it, it will be so fucking scary, I'd rather the death. I really think I'm all fucked up, Samara. He scares me to death but he is protection and I am loyal and obedient, like a fucking idiot. I mean, look at us! We have killed a man and are preparing him for food."

"What is wrong with us? We should run, we should fly the fuck out of here. And we don't."

"Yeah, I think they fucked up our heads or something. Maybe implanted a thing in our necks while we were asleep one night? Something that make us just be and do what they want and don't fight it."

"What should we do with the damned head? Can't cook that."

A click and silence as the recording ended.

 

Raff and Polliver sat still and quiet for a moment. Both bolted to vomit at the same time.

"I..I hope you really don't kill them. I mean, I can see why they did what they did. It was disgusting but..."

Raff wiped his mouth and rinsed it with whiskey. He sat back in his seat as Polliver gagged again before returning.

"Thank you for bringing us that. Leave it with us, please. Go to bed now. You are injured and need to get rest."

Brat looked like she wanted to say more but she shook her head and went back upstairs.

Raff and Polliver stared at nothing then at each other.

 


	136. Pay To Play

Something was wrong and Piggy and Samara knew it right away. They woke up to find their Masters not in their beds. Shutting of the alarms, the pets looked about then hurried to get ready. Finding each other in the hallway they held hands as they went downstairs.

Samara gave a low whine, they could feel how wrong this morning was.

The only one in the kitchen was Brat, who also shouldn't be up yet. Only good thing was that Pepper and her mother weren't there, meaning they managed to leave after all. At least that was good.

It took a moment before Piggy figured it out. Samara saw it first and it buckled her knees. She slid down the counter and pointed it out for Piggy, while shudders ripped through her.

Brat sat with icy eyes, holding a gun, pointing it directly at the slaves. That wasn't what Samara pointed at, nor was it Piggy's concern. What made Piggy actually piss down his leg, what was causing Samara to curl into a fetal position was Dusten's ring and cell phone on the table.

In a voice that Brat has never used towards her own friends, she spoke to the terrified pets.

"Don't bother making breakfast today. You will stay right there until Raff and Polliver return. Yes, they know and so do I."   

Deep down, Brat felt terrible for them, she was shocked at their reaction.

Admittedly, Brat didn't think much of what they must go through, how their lives are affected. She saw them as her friends but not close ones. Now she has them pegged as rabid cannibal killers which doesn't make sense if they are cowering this way.

She had the gun out because Brat was afraid they would rush her and try to kill her. Maybe thinking she was a good candidate for dinner. Rolling her eyes at her own overreaction, she relaxed her hand.

"Did you really just...ugh. Piggy, really? Have some fucking dignity, would you? Samara, what the fuck, are you a damned fetus? You guys couldn't have just dumped his body into the swamp? Chop and dump? I mean, you served Dusten to every one of us, you know! Do you know sometimes we had some of those casseroles and stews and fucking pot pies sent up for us to eat? Gregor ate some of it and so did I! What did I do that I had to eat a person? Dusten?"

Brat turned green and took several deep breaths.

Piggy shook his head, he had nothing to say, no defense. He stood there with urine dripping down and waited for Polliver to kill him with dead eyes.

Samara slowly stood up and staggered over to Piggy. She held his hand then put her head on his shoulder and they waited together to die.

 

They heard the door open and slam shut.

Boots, two sets coming towards the kitchen.

Samara and Piggy trembled harder. Samara sank to her knees after squeezing then releasing Piggy's hand. Her hair covered her face and Samara waited for the boots to come before her then the pain of death.

Piggy knelt, his legs have turned to rubber and will not hold him. His eyes stayed down, he couldn't bear to see Polliver's cold eyes. It was easy to keep his mouth shut. What would he say? 

Both of them cowered and waited for their Masters wrath.

Instead there were thumps and instead of boots in front of their eyes, it was terrified prey.

Piggy and Samara looked at Pepper and her mother. The woman had a large lump on her forehead, her nose was broken and she was nearly naked. Pepper had a bruise on her eye and a gash along her neck.

Polliver gave the woman a solid kick to her hip and barked at her to stay down. She yelped and grabbed onto Pepper, curling over her protectively.

"We found these two halfway towards a ferry to head out towards the Iron Islands. Seems like they took your advice to leave too late, eh? Bad timing, really. I would've let them go and not given a shit. I mean, Ellie here is a good fuck, but not good enough to chase down. Of course, catching them was a bit rougher than we thought. They fought us, it was fun. Ellie was a real mama bear and her cub was such a brave little idiot. Instead of running while we fought her mother, she stayed to try and attack us back."

Piggy said nothing still and just shook, tears sliding off his nose to patter on the tiles.

"You truly have nothing to say. That's because you finally just dug that grave. You know that, right? Two graves, actually. Have you pissed yourself in terror yet? Smells like it...both of you, soaked in fear pee...fucking pitiful. If you are going to be as bad ass as to kill, chop, cook and fucking serve one of the Mountain's Men, then you should have the balls to stand the fuck up and be able to face me!"

Cringing even lower, Piggy shook his head and sobbed.

Polliver stepped over the terrified woman to stand over his cringing boy. He loomed threateningly over him, Piggy went lower and didn't dare look up or speak.

"SAY SOMETHING!"

A sob tore out of Piggy and he threw himself towards Polliver's feet. His hands scrabbled at Polliver's legs and he was deeply ashamed at his lack of dignity.

"Please! I'm sorry, sorry! Sorry! Please, Master, I..."

"Get off me. Now. It's too late for groveling, boy. Have some dignity."

Samara was trying to crawl on her stomach towards Raff and she was also rebuffed.

"No. On your knees, next to Piggy. I don't want your pathetic sniveling, Samara. Bad girl. Bad dog! The dragon is here, sweetling, I would stay very obedient right now."

She cringed at the sweet yet acidic voice and knelt, trying not to cry out loud. Raff must hate her now, how could she have been so stupid! Nothing could be worth losing her Master's love. _Just kill me and end it, please, don't make me have to live another second with you hating me!_

Brat was in misery but she had no choice, she was one of them, regardless. Standing up, Brat joined the circle around the mother and child.

"Do you have any fucking idea why they have been dragged back? Answer me!"

Piggy timidly looked up at Brat's stone cold voice.

Samara shook her head no and Piggy managed out a no as he knelt again next to Samara.

Polliver smiled and stood over the mother and daughter curled on the kitchen tiles.

Cold eyes that offered nothing but death, Polliver was so calm and cheerful.  He stood next to Raff whose malicious grin was a thing of horror. Anger thinned his lovely face out, his cheeks appeared almost sunken in and his eyes seemed to glow. 

Piggy and Samara held hands again. 

Death and the Dragon were here.

 

"Both of you stop pissing yourselves and pay attention. I want eyes on me, I want all eyes on whoever is speaking to you. Look at the two of you, you can do something so sick and twisted but now you are just two quivering pathetic weak slaves begging for your very lives. Out of all the fucking stupid things I ever could have thought you could do..you fucking surpassed my expectations! I mean, you not only killed him...that...I heard the phone call, that I could've forgiven. You didn't do the killing, moron! She did! But you had to take that last fucking step, Piggy just can't help himself. With your mouth or your actions. That is why you needed me to survive, remember?"

Raff's voice cut through the air like a whip.

"As for you, Samara. Dusten tried to kill you, he abused and tried to murder my property. I would have punished and forgiven you, stupid little bitch. You said that you loved me, trusted me and were loyal. You promised to never keep anything from me. How dare you break that promise? How dare you not trust me? You should have come to your Master and begged for my mercy. You should have told me everything and waited for my judgment. Admit your mistake and throw yourself before me in submission, trusting and loyal. Instead you not only hid what you did, YOU COOKED HIM! YOU ATE HIM AND FED HIM TO YOUR OWN MASTER! TO MY OWN BOSS?"

Samara went low, wailing low and Raff's voice sliced into her.

"Kneel up! Look at me while I am speaking to you. If I have to tell you one more time, I swear I will flay you."

Polliver smiled again and slapped his knee, eerily like Gregor would do.

"Hey! It was a funny prank though, right? A great way to give a fuck you to those who enslaved you. No different than a waitress that hates you putting a little spit in your drink. I am impressed, I'll admit it. One hell of a prank, I'm going to give you both that. And I'll tell you something else. After Raff and I had a puke-a-thon, I thought of something. You really are one hell of a cook, Piggy. You sure are, Dusten was delicious. You two agree with that?"

Brat looked a little green but begrudgingly nodded.

"I don't think I would have enjoyed the taste so much if I knew what the meat was. But yeah, I always loved Piggy's cooking."

Raff made a graceful movement so he was crouching over the mother and the girl. He caressed the little's girl's hair as he stared hard at Samara and Piggy.  His voice was rich, smooth and sang a terrible song.

"Yes, I must agree that my comrade was quite tasty. I wonder though, would a child taste even better, even more tender? I mean, like veal, you know? As for the mother, granted, she is older, but younger than Dusten by quite a bit. Servant worked hard or not, she is plump enough. Samara, you should have a much easier time killing the girl and mother, they aren't nearly as strong as Dusten."

As Samara let out a low wail of despair, Polliver gave Piggy a mean smile.

"After she kills them, you can get to cutting them up and preparing to cook. Looks like you are in for a very long day, boy. Just think of those delicious casseroles, soups, stews and burgers, not to mention the ribs!"     

Finally, Piggy found his voice.

"Oh gods, Master, please! Just kill me! Torture me and kill me, I'll accept it! But don't take it out on these two, they didn't do anything! Don't make me do this and make me die with that on my damned soul! Please!"

Polliver sneered.

"You fucking stupid pathetic Piggy! So over-dramatic all the time. You are going to do it or you are going to die. If you want to gain MY forgiveness you won't fucking hesitate to take your punishment. Show me your loyalty and obedience or you will die along with them. Only after I fuck both of them in front of you and force you to cook them anyway. I'll make you eat, force feed you until it literally kills you. I'll bury you with your friends that are more important to you than your Master. You will fucking adore me, Piggy! I saved your miserable life! You will fucking worship me, do you fucking hear me?"

Piggy nodded. He hated both himself and Polliver with a feeling so overwhelmingly raw he thought, he hoped it would kill him.

"Let's take this to the basement, before the ladies start rising and wandering around."

Brat looked ill at the whole idea and looked worse when Raff suggested the basement.

She honestly had believed that the men were just using scare tactics on the pets. It was slowly that she saw it wasn't just a terrible prank or threat. For the first time, Brat really looked into the eyes of Raff and Polliver. Fuck, they meant it.

"Uh, I don't want to.."

As Raff and Polliver's intense eyes landed upon her, Brat had to fight to not cringe but her words did fail her.

"Are you one of us? Polliver will help me get these two downstairs. You can escort the pets down."

Brat looked away then nodded.

As Ellie and Pepper also realized that the cannibalism threat was real, they began to struggle and scream. Raff scooped up the girl and put his hand tightly over her mouth. She struggled frantically and Raff dropped her to stun her then carried her dazed body.

Polliver had a bit more of struggle with the crazed mother who will not passively allow her daughter to be killed and eaten.

She manged to get a good scratch down Polliver's face before he began to choke her into submission. He gave her two hard blows to her stomach and then released her throat to let her sink down, gagging, struggling for air.

Giving two hard kicks into her back, he hoisted her twitching, retching upon his back, carrying her to the basement. Piggy and Samara crawled begin their Masters, sobbing and wailing the whole way. 

Brat slowly walked behind the emotionally tortured slaves and thought to herself, this is my life now. I chose this, the good and bad. And this is the fucking bad, without a doubt.

Taking a deep breath, Brat stood on the top step towards the basement. She shut her eyes, hearing the sobbing of the slaves, the screaming of the victims and she shut the basement door. It sounded louder than ever and Brat's feet felt heavy as she descended the stairs. 


	137. Monster Roll Call

The floor had a large see through plastic sheet that the mother and girl were thrown upon.

Sheets of the same curtained around them all in a wide U shape. A table with items upon it was the only furniture in the area.

Sobbing, the pets crawled to the edge of the sheet then couldn't bring themselves to go any closer. They could not willingly step upon what is essentially a death shroud.

Raff smirked.

"What's wrong, dears? Did we get it wrong? I mean, we had to improvise, we weren't there to see it done. But we heard the items you listed for Samara to get. See, the table has everything you said. If we missed anything be sure to let us know, we'll get it for you. We heard you stress about enough trash bags and sheeting. By the way, were you two able to really pick every lock at the damned place? You just flew in and out of our basement when the shed ran out of options for you. We'll make sure to keep in mind that you both know how to pick locks for now on. "

Polliver kicked the woman's legs out as she tried uselessly to grab Pepper and bolt.

"Sorry, Samara, couldn't find a big enough rock for you to beat them to death with. Guess you'll have to just use your bare hands."

Samara's eyes widened and she stared fully at Polliver then wildly her eyes went to Raff. Her pleading whine was cut off by her Master.

"Don't you dare beg for a single fucking shred of mercy. You and Piggy are responsible for this, for their deaths, for what happens to them after they die. The fact that we are allowing you a punishment instead of death should be seen as mercy. I want you to kill the girl first, I want to make her mother watch. I want you both to see and hear this mother's heart break when you murder the only good thing that ever happened to her. I want you to look in her eyes and see it before she dies."

Samara gave a howling sound and rocked back and forth while Piggy just sobbed into his hands, whole body shaking. Raff spoke very softly.

"You have ten seconds to stand up and kill that girl or Polliver and I are going to rape her. After you watch us do that, you'll get another ten seconds to kill her before we take her again along with her mother. We'll keep doing it and adding torture to it until you comply. Is that what you want for them? Is this how you show me you are truly my devoted girl? By hesitating? Prove me to that you love me, that you want to be mine."

A fraction of time passed where the world froze. No one moved or spoke. The mother hugged Pepper tightly, wrapped around her, staring at Samara, silently shaking her head. Pepper watched Samara and Piggy then mouthed, Please don't.

"Ten."

With a terrible wailing, growling sound Samara lunged forward and wrestled Pepper from her screaming, frantic mother. Tossing Pepper aside, Samara kicked to shatter one of the mother's knees so she couldn't interfere. 

The girl got her legs just as Samara skittered across the plastic for her. Pepper's eyes grew round in horror and she tried to get away but there was no where to go.

Pepper grabbed onto Piggy and begged for help as he tried to extract himself from her while whipping his head back and forth.

"Please, don't let them! You are my friend, you and her, you are supposed to save us! Please! Why is this happening, please make it stop!"

Piggy gave a wail and then grabbed the girl to hug her close and whisper that he was so sorry.

Then he grabbed her hands and thrust her hard into Samara's waiting arms. Samara and Piggy looked into each others eyes briefly and each saw the same horrific void. They are monsters, they can't be trusted or loved by any other than each other and their Masters.

Allowing the pain of it to wash over them and through them, Piggy and Samara stopped fighting their punishment. Piggy wept and watched without anymore drama.

Samara pulled the shrieking girl close and put her in a tight hold. Her hands smoothed down the hair and she made a shushing sound. With a rapid hard jerk, Pepper's neck broke and her glassy eyes stared at her mother after Samara let her drop boneless to the plastic.

The mother shrieked and began to claw her way to her daughter's body. She held the small bundle and kept screaming, as if her voice would get loud enough to awaken her.

Samara had used her full strength to make it fast and as painless as she could. The girl's head was lolling upside down and there was a gruesome nod to it when the mother would take a deep breath for another screech.

Piggy lunged for a bucket to vomit and Brat was trying to hide her tears.

She forced herself to buck up and bit her lip to hide the small tremor. Could she execute such brutal orders if needed? Well, Brat supposed watching them without stopping it was the first step to getting there. That helped dry her tears more than anything.

"Finish it."

As soon Samara heard Raff's order she roared and attacked the mother. She grabbed the woman's head and bashed it down hard, harder then a third time. The woman's left eye was wandering away but her right one still looked at her attacker in terror. Her body was seizing and Samara roared in frustration. 

She lunged downward and used her teeth to rip the woman's throat out. Samara kept digging her sharp teeth into the raw meat until the woman stopped thrashing underneath her. Flinging herself off the body, Samara squirmed towards Raff, smearing blood everywhere.

She stopped just before Raff's boots, not daring to touch her gory face to them without permission.

"That was a very good start to earning forgiveness. You need to help Piggy butcher and cook both of them. You may rest right here next to me while Piggy does the first bit of work on his own."

Samara was grateful that Raff was allowing her the comfort of his presence. He must care for her, otherwise why not kill her too? That was what she held to herself as the girl and mother screamed inside her head.

"Well, boy, get to it. I think you should start with the girl. You can do some of it on your own since Samara had to do her fair share by herself."

Piggy cried but he cut up most of Pepper on his own under Polliver's remorseless gaze. Samara joined in soon enough and they paid the price for Dusten in gruesome coin.

 

Brat, Raff and Polliver each took turns to watch them prep and cook all day to make sure they were obeying. Even though Piggy and Samara obeyed every command the point was driven home that they weren't being trusted. It was something to be earned all over again.

It was nearly evening before the pets had finished cooking and freezing it all. The extra freezer in the pantry was full of bags and Tupperware. Both pets were sweaty, so tired they could barely stand up without leaning upon each other.

"Looks like that is at least two months worth of food. I hope you made it all with great care since that is all the two of you will be eating until it's all gone. You may both shower, change and go into your cages to sleep. After you eat, of course. You must be starving."

Polliver himself served the casserole he told Piggy to set aside. He and Raff made sure the two shuddering pets ate every bite of their supper.

 

Brat spoke to her father and congratulated him on his new status.

"I want you to come North for awhile. You need to play daughter. Just for the media shit and for the official ceremony and dance. Will give us a chance to talk about what you'll be doing. Pack and be here tomorrow."

"Yes Sir. Uh..my look is a bit radical right now, do I need to hit a salon or something? Do you need me to look like the average teen?"

Brat shivered at the thought but knew she would do it if she had to. Compared to what she has done here, it seemed quite easy and agreeable. 

"No. I am not the traditional look. You shouldn't be either. Hell, it's our friggin platform that we aren't high society polished pricks. Just don't dress like a slut or a damned princess and we are fine."

She packed her bags and then decided to fix herself up and go out for a while.

She wasn't sure where or why, but she had to get out of this nightmare. Brat was thrilled to go North for awhile, forget about these awful fucking last few days. Strolling downstairs, she saw Polliver and Raff each sharing a spiked whiskey.

"Hey, Gregor called me, he wants me North tomorrow."

Both nodded and Raff smirked.

"He called me earlier. Enjoy the vacation."

"Thanks. I'm sure all the media will be quite soothing. I'm going to take a walk, be back in an hour or so."

"The armed slave was put back to work at the bridge. Since Joss is dead I see no real reason for it for just a walk, but if you want him to go with you, just tell him. He'll get someone to take his place for awhile."

Brat nodded and headed out the door. They had resumed their conversation.

"How long have they been asleep now? Would you say about four or five hours? That is fair amount of time. Time for the rest of their punishments. Did you dig the hole big enough? And did you test that chain for me? Last time I used it, it broke."

"Hole is six feet deep. And I swung off the fucking chain like King Kong. They are going to fucking have to learn the hard way."

 

Brat shook her head as she left. They don't think that Piggy and Samara have been punished enough? She couldn't get out the door quick enough. The air was crisp and cleansing as she walked. Across the bridge she waved to her shadow and told him she was fine walking alone.

She left the estate and began to head into town, following the lights. The first tavern Brat came to, she slipped behind. Slowly she began to walk in the alleyways behind the pool hall, the bars. There was other types of entertainment to be had here in the stinking dark.

Brat silently passed the drug dealers and the junkies. Whores and their customers were of no interest, the slapping of flesh against flesh covered any sound Brat might have made.

Without stopping, Brat patrolled and preyed upon the backstreets, stalking, waiting for her target. Finally, it happened. Hanging back in the shadows, she observed a drunk forcing a young woman out a back door. He slammed the struggling, begging girl up against the brick wall then raised a fist.

Seconds later the man was on the ground. Brat repeatedly punched his face with brass knuckles that glinted in the air until they were too covered with blood to do so. Then she pulled out a knife and slit his throat before sinking back into the shadows. That girl had fled the second Brat started to punch the man. However, since no one came out back, she assumes the girl just went home.

Feeling calmer and lighter, Brat headed back.  

 

Piggy woke screaming as light flooded the room and Polliver began to smash his boot repeatedly into the cage bars.

"Wake up! Up, Piggy, Up and up!"

Nearly hyperventilating, Piggy scrambled to cower on his hands and knees. He knew by the rapid and loud tone that if he looked up Polliver would have pupils small enough to be pinpricks. Some stimulant that Polliver puts in his whiskey, he usually only does it when he is about to hurt or kill someone.

Moaning, Piggy crawled out when Polliver flung open the cage. He flinched hard when Polliver grabbed his hair and yanked him upright.

"Time to rest is over. You didn't think that was it, did you?  No, no, stupid lil old Piggy. You both paid for killing and cooking our comrade. Now you pay for the fucking disrespect you showed for feeding him to us. We are going outside."

Polliver attached the leash and started to job downstairs, whistling merrily. Piggy nearly had to run to keep up with him. As soon as they got down the stairs, Polliver swept Piggy's legs out.

"Crawl, bitch."

Piggy obeyed but since his Master didn't slow down from his jogging, Piggy was dragged most of the way. As soon as Piggy saw the two fresh mounds and the third open grave, complete with a wooden box he began to scream. 

"Master, please! Please, I did what I was told! I took my punishment! I'll do anything for you, please don't I'm sorry I was disrespectful!"

Polliver grabbed Piggy by his hair and held him over the side to look down.

"Not as deep as the quarry. And not as quick of a death being buried alive. Get in."

Moving back, letting go of Piggy's hair, Polliver stared with ruthless eyes at the boy.

"I...Master, please! You said you wouldn't kill me!"

"I'm not killing you, I'm teaching you a lesson for disrespecting me. Get in the grave, Piggy. If I have to repeat myself you're going into that hole with a bullet in you."

Piggy shook and tears streamed but he panted then forced himself to lower into the grave.

"Good. Now lay down."

Piggy screamed when Polliver slammed the world into darkness. Hearing the sounds of nails being driven into the wood inches from his face nearly tore Piggy's mind apart. He kept screaming apologies and please until he passed out.

 

Samara cried out when her tangled, fear filled dreams tore like paper when a hand yanked her from her cage.

"Did you have a lovely little rest, my pretty pitbull? Good! Time for a trip to the basement with the dragon, honey."


	138. Buried Down Deep

Piggy woke and heard soft thuds accompanied by a sharp rattling. He sucked in his breath and felt his eyes bulge as he remembered he was in a wood coffin.

THUD! A rain of sharp strikes and Piggy knew.

It was soft earth full of small rocks that Polliver was burying him in. _He said he wouldn't kill him. He lied, he tricked me, he's burying me alive!_ A panic surged him into action.

He began to kick and claw at the wood, splinters driving keep under the nails that didn't peel off or crack into jagged shards that sunk deep into his tender flesh.

Clank, something clanked against his elbow and it halted him. Piggy grabbed it and felt it. It was a monitor, there was a button and he pressed it then yelled for Polliver, begging to be forgiven.

A harsh static then his Master's voice.

"Don't need to scream, boy. I can hear you clearly. I know you can hear me, not much sound down there except the thud of dirt, I bet. Do you know how close you are to death, Piggy? Let me tell you, you are about three feet away from it on the right side."

Polliver laughed at his own joke before continuing.

"You are also a few hours away from death. That is when you are going to have some air trouble. So you need to use both your air and your time very carefully. No more screaming and thrashing, you need to conserve. Every now and then I'm going to check in on you. Each time we'll talk a little more. You are going to stay still, breathe calmly and listen to everything I say. Think deeply on everything I tell you to. If you do this, I'll let you out before you run out of air."

 

Raff used Samara's leash to drag her down to the basement.

He hasn't said a word since his initial ones to her and was relishing in her terror. She was whining and cowering in pure submissive horror, willingly going to a dreadful punishment. He loved that about her and watching her kill the mother and child for him turned him on like crazy.

What he was about to do was crazy and he knew it, Polliver said as much. Actually, what Polliver said was it was crazy and dangerous as hell. Raff was sure that its crazy, but not so sure it would be dangerous, it might be, he hoped in a dark way that it would be.

He was sure it wouldn't be deadly, he knew her too well for that.

Giggling a little, the dragon wasn't dampened by the whiskey and amphetamines, no, but they were redirected.  Which is exactly what Raff had wanted. He was so furious at his girl, so angered that she had fed him Dusten, it made him deadly with the disrespect of it.

He wasn't very upset over Dusten's death. The man had tried to kill his property! Also, as he and Polliver agreed, any man weak and dumb enough to get killed by a mere slave, deserves it.

Raff cares for his little slave. He loves what he made her into. Loves being worshiped, loves the fear, pain and devotion in her every glance, in her every movement. He had honestly believed that his girl was perfect in every way for him, then this.

To feed him a human, a person he lived and worked with? Oh, that took guts, that took every inch of repressed anger in her to do that. Sure it was Piggy's idea but she had no trouble agreeing to it. 

He let go of her leash as soon as they got into the basement. Turning on the lights, Raff removed his shirt. Smiling at the thick chain in the center of the room hanging down from the ceiling.

Samara huddled low and peeked from underneath her hair at the room. No more plastic, no blood or bodies or pieces anywhere, no, that was all cleaned up earlier. She and Piggy were the ones doing it while Raff had given them instructions. 

All tools were put away neatly on shelves or tables. Other things were hung carefully upon the walls. A medical table with straps and a refurbished dental chair were there, but put up in corners. The flaying board was leaned against a cabinet.

Only mats upon the floor and a single chain in the center of the room. She looked up at her Master, wondering what weapon he will grab. If he will hang her from the chain? So tense waiting for it, when Raff spoke Samara leaped.

Raff went to the chain and wrapped it around his own wrists, then held it tightly with his fists. Swaying back and forth playfully, he smirked at Samara.

"You can stand up now. You can have free speech. Come closer to me and look up like you actually care what I say."

Startled, Samara looked up warily to see if it was a trick of some sort. Timidly, she stood up and nearly tiptoes towards him.

"That's better. Move your hair a bit more, I want to be able to see those eyes. Wonderful. Hit me. Look, I have even wrapped myself in chains for you! Go on, beat the shit out of me if you want to. Do you want to, Samara?"

Shaking her head wildly, Samara went to her knees and pleaded.

"Master, please! I would never want to hit you! I am so sorry, I was very bad, I'm sorry, please forgive me!"

"None of that, if you please. Please, no more pleases, it gets redundant. Stand up and let me see those pretty orbs of yours before I snatch them out. Much better. So you don't want to hurt me, Samara? Maybe Jeyne does then? Because for you to feed me someone I've known for so long, or feed me a person at all for that matter...that is some pretty bad juju. I mean, that is a pretty strong statement for someone who isn't angry or resentful. Someone who intended disrespect. Do you want to be disrespectful to me, Samara? No? I bet Jeyne wants to and was. Right?"

"There is no Jeyne, only Samara."

"Really? Come on, hit me. Let that anger out. It's simmering there, let's get rid of it. Hit me, hurt me, blacken my eye at least. Think you'll ever get offered such a chance again? Don't waste it."

"I wouldn't hurt you, never dare to do that! I swear it, Master! I love you, I'm loyal, I just did a terrible thing and panicked, I swear it!"

Raff laughed and swung himself as if the chain was a child's swing.

"Samara is my loyal, loving, fearful bitch. Jeyne...she was different, wasn't she? Jeyne was a different kind of bitch and I bet she held resentments. Maybe she lurks there, inside you, like a fucking leech. She is who decided to feed me Dusten. I'm sure of it. I want her to play with me. Hit me, go on."

Sobbing, Samara shook her head and hugged herself, her eyes trying to plead with her Master.

"What did I do to poor little Jeyne? I helped kill pretty much everyone she ever knew. I let all my friends rape her one by one. I sewed her mouth shut with wire. I took pictures of it and sent them to Damon. I fucked with your body and head until you went crazy. I fucked with you until you killed your very own lover, your rescuer, just to obey me. I made you my little rabid bitch, I hurt you as much as I pleasure you and I scare you half to death and make you love me for it. NOW FUCKING HIT ME AND IT IS AN ORDER!"

Samara was totally surprised to find herself obeying.

 

Brat went to her room and showered.

Then paced for a good fifteen minutes. Picking up her bags, she decided to leave now and left in an uber, texting the men as she left. She had to leave this place, had to get far from that dark alley as well as from the ghosts of that girl and her mother.

Heading north, Brat called Gregor to tell him she was on her way now and was grateful that he didn't ask why.

 

Piggy found it easier to keep his eyes shut and breathe in through his nose and out of his mouth.

He tried to keep still but not let his muscles tense into cramps. In the ominous silence Piggy had to try to keep the screaming mother and Pepper out of his memories.

Recipes, he recited as many as he could remember. Then he tried to recall every spice, every type of seasoning, every type of cooking utensil he had in the kitchen.

It was working and Piggy was obeying, he would survive this, he would and Polliver would forgive him. _Don't think of a dead child with a flopping head digging her way busily towards you with graveyard dirt and wood in her grinning mouth._

_No, no don't panic now! Calm your breathing. Don't be stupid, she is dead, she can't move for gods sake! There are no blood white little hands digging through with ragged nails..._

 

 

"Piggy, you still alive in there?"

Sobbing in relief, Piggy scrabbled to hug the monitor to himself the best he could.

"Yes, Master! Please, let me out now? Please, I am so sorry I was disrespectful! Please don't leave me down here!"

"Stay calm, didn't I tell you that? No more begging, time to listen. To feed me Dusten, that took balls, Piggy. You are lucky I didn't geld you and get rid of those big balls. You are lucky I didn't do it and let you bleed out. Or throw you off the quarry. You are lucky I didn't put a fucking bullet in your head. How many times have you almost died? Let's see, that fateful party, I could've saved myself trouble and killed you then. But I showed you mercy. I liked you, I like how you are my little worshipful coward. I like how you slip up, how you have attitude, how you amuse me. You know I love your cooking and your service. But you've been killed by anyone else by now. I let you live at the quarry. I let you live when you murdered, stole and fucking escaped in the Dragonlands. And here we are again. Now I find out you've turned us all into cannibals. You were disrespectful enough to feed me my own buddy. And again, I have allowed you to live. So what I want you to concentrate on until I return is how grateful you should be for your very life. How much I own it and control it. I want you to think of that, Piggy."

The silence was back but the words rang in Piggy's ears. Anything was better than thinking of what might crawl through the earth so Piggy concentrated on obeying. If he obeyed well enough, Polliver might let him out sooner.

First he recalled the quarry, then he thought of what happened at Aerys's home. Then he recalled how Polliver tried to protect him from Tickler, how he hurt him for Piggy. He remembered how Polliver tried to warn Joss off, how Polliver really listened to Piggy when he spoke his mind and even YELLED at his Master! 

Then allowed Piggy to hurt Joss himself. He even let Piggy kill Joss! The guilt and regret for his actions towards his Master dug at him like busy small fingers through grave dirt.

 

Blows from her tiny fists and kicks from her little feet made Raff lose his breath a few times, wince and gasp. This was anger but fear and respect were still there. She didn't do enough damage for more than mere small bruises and Raff was hard, the look on her face was intoxicating. 

Sweat and tears, hair flying, eyes wild with so much conflicting emotion, trying to beat up the man she loved and despised. He laughed and began to taunt her in a silky voice.

"That's all you've got for me, girl? I have seen your kills, this is nothing. Don't you want rip me with your teeth? Want to rip out my throat and drink my blood? Lap it up as you feel me twitch to my death beneath you? At least don't you want to break my bones, shatter my teeth, pluck an eyeball? Scalp me? My hair is my best feature, surely you'd like the bloody wig?"

Samara growled and hit his jaw hard enough that Raff spit out blood and was stunned for a moment. She began to circle him slowly, a sound growing into a howl. Rushing, she gave his back several kicks then darted while he was slumped and bit deep into his side.

Raff cried out and Samara moved back out of reach to circle him again.

Raff nearly came into his own pants when she bit so deeply, the pain was so good, the knowledge that she was his so much that he could trust in this. That was the best part.

He smirked as she licked her bloody lips and snarled quietly, weaving back and forth. He mimicked her, swinging on the chain.

"That's better..there is my little rabid bitch. Is it better now, Jeyne? Are you less angry now, sweetheart? No, you don't look done yet, keep going. You have more for me, don't you?"

"I am not Jeyne. I am Samara. Yes...I'm...angry. You took it all away. Me. The old me, you took her away. AND I LIKED HER!"

Rushing forward, Samara gave four punishing blows to his stomach, chest and kicked out his legs twice.

"YOU MADE ME LOVE YOU! YOU MADE ME LIKE THE SICK SADISTIC SHIT YOU TO DO ME! YOU TURNED ME INTO A FUCKING SLAVE, A DOLL, A FUCK TOY AND A DOG! I HATE IT! I HATE THAT I LOVE YOU! I HATE THAT YOU TURNED ME INTO A MONSTER!"

This time when she rushed him, face contorted and hair flying, there was no more pretense to the game. Samara scratched, bit, kicked and punched while sobbing, gibbering. Raff panted and allowed it only for another moment, he was going to explode.

"Down!"

Samara dropped to her knees, heaving.

"Use your mouth to worship your Master."

The same teeth that sunk into his side and chest lightly grazed along his cock. He moaned and threw his head back. Samara took him deep into her mouth and throat. After a few minutes of her licking and sucking with just enough teeth involved to make him hiss a bit, he called her off.

"Climb me, ride my cock."

Without any hesitation, Samara slithered up him as if she were a snake then plunged herself hard onto his length. She yelped but Raff felt how wet she was. He gave a low laugh and began to whisper in her ear while he hung on the chain, letting her do all the work.

"You hate to love it, but you do. You hate to love me or need me or fear me, but you do. You are mine, to do with whatever I please. You are my rabid little bitch, my fuck toy, my pretty little monster. And it will never change, you are mine until you die of old age or until I kill you. Harder, can you feel how wet you are? How much you want this? I'll dominate, rule, order, hurt and degrade you all your life and you willingly accept it. Because you love how I make you feel, how I protect and care for you. Who else would want you now? Who else would ever give a flying fuck about you? Piggy, right? Yeah, Piggy is your main buddy, your partner in crime, isn't he? If you ever think to be so disrespectful again as to feed me a person, if you ever think to to kill and hide it from me, I'll kill your Piggy. Polliver will be very angry but he'll get over it eventually. You won't though. Because I'll make you help me torture and slaughter him."

Samara wailed and an orgasm shuddered through her as she clung hard to her Master. He growled, bit hard into her neck and arched hard into her, filling her with his seed. His little slave was wrapped around him, softly begging for his forgiveness.  

 

Polliver opened the coffin and Piggy started to frantically try and climb out. His limbs were stiff and clumsy, he was hyperventilating, falling back onto his back.

"My poor stupid boy."

Lifting Piggy up, Polliver pulled them out of the grave. Piggy wouldn't let go of him, even then. His arms were wrapped around Polliver's waist, his head burrowing into his upper stomach. Hands have become claws entangled in the back of Polliver's shirt.

"I'm sorry I was bad. I'm sorry I was disrespectful, I was wrong! Please forgive me for being selfish and stupid! I'm so sorry! I need you, I need you to tell me what to do, I can't live without it! I'm sorry! I'll never do it again, never!"

Patting his Piggy's head, Polliver tried to give him a moment to calm down.

"Stop babbling. I forgive you, it's over. But Piggy, I won't tolerate your disrespect. If you ever pull shit like this again, I'll make you watch me kill another person you care for. That would be Samara, wouldn't it? I only got to fuck her that once, when she first got to the Barracks. That was while she was still just wild Jeyne. I wonder what raping and torturing her would be like now? She can stare into your eyes while I sodomize her. I can let your mind fill in what could happen. Are you my good cowardly, respectful Piggy?"

Piggy slowly pulled away and nodded his head.

"Yes Master. I am your good cowardly, respectful Piggy."

"Good. Let's go take care of those hands, look how much you fucked them up. That's alright, your food and Samara's just need heating and defrosting each day. As for me and Raff, I think we can stand a small break from your cooking." 

He put an arm around Piggy and let the leash trail behind them as they walked. Piggy staggered along, silent and sniffling.

"Aw, poor Piggy. Things just don't go good for you when you don't listen to me. You need to remember your place, boy and mine. Is it that hard to get through that fucking Piggy head? Huh? You love your master, don't you? Love and worship your Master? Who else would take you in and care for you? Anyone? Who else would put up with this cannibalism shit, huh?"

"I love and worship you, Master."

Piggy whispered that as Polliver made his fingers burn with antiseptic.

Mercy was given and Polliver gave him pain medication before wrapping and tending his weeping, tender finger-beds full of wooden splinters. Not to mention four broken fingers.

Piggy drifted off, muttering about loving and worshiping his Master. He fell into a sleep so deep that he fell right past those grasping child's dead white fingers.


	139. Power Comes At A Cost

Leaning her hot forehead against the cold windowpane, Brat stared dully up at the sky.

As the car drove she watched mountains, trees, then lights, buildings appear. Opening her window and sticking her head out, she could see churned earth, dinosaur sized skeletons of buildings in their creation.

Soon they were in an area that has been completed, new houses, new buildings.

It was all in a circle shape and it went around till she was nearly dizzy. The car stopped and she looked up at the building that Gregor resided in. A huge white washed official looking house, the only color besides white was the black of the uniformed men guarding it.

"Ms. Clegane?"

Brat stood up and nodded after a second. It was strange to be referred to by a new last name. The men were deferential and polite as they guided her into the home. The house was filled with conference rooms, offices and folks running around with folders and clipboards.

A very well dressed slender man with hair the color of Sansa's but with a long blond stripe through it was waiting for her.

"So much work to do with the ceremonies, speeches and more that our people are burning the midnight oil. Nice to meet you Brat, I am Jaq, Waif's sister."

Brat shook his hand while starting at him intently.

"I know you...you were Joff's stylist or something, weren't you?"

"That is correct and what a repulsive young man he was. Your sister was much better to work with. Gregor is upstairs in his study, all the living quarters are on the third and fourth floor."

An elevator ride and Brat stepped out of the little silver box into pure opulence. Jaq smirked at her reaction.

Furs of endangered animals covered the floors as rugs, marble imported from the Dragonlands lay gleaming in between the furs. The shelves and small tables were holding artifacts and art that should be in a museum. The furniture was top quality.

Brat sat on an ottoman and quickly jumped off of it when she saw what the fabric was.

With a chuckle, Jaq commented.

"We were lucky enough to find Drogo's remains. When you all fled the North, Waif sent word to me to try and get Drogo's body for her. It was a little present for Gregor. If you'll look to that left bottom shelf, there is his skull. Of course, since he had angered Waif before death...she has bedazzled his skull bright pink in revenge. Gregor said she ruined it but he leaves it out anyway. But I see him cringe when he looks at it. Gregor should be in his room, wait here and I'll let him know you are here."

Nodding, Brat started to look around the room.

"Oh, is Waif here? I actually wanted to speak with her about something."  

"Sorry, Brat. She left yesterday and I am not sure when she will return. Perhaps you can speak with me? Or Gregor?"

"No offense but I don't know you at all. I'll speak with my father or wait for Waif. Thank you though for your thoughtfulness."

Jaq gave her an approving nod for her creative answer and left the room.

 

Brat watched the giant man, well dressed but still himself. He walked better, talked better, looked better, but the eyes haven't changed. Once they were alone and he was sipping his expensive drink in a priceless glass, he spoke.

"You are upset. Tell me about it. Don't bother blowing it off as nothing. I need you at your best, not at your worst. Tell me and I'll help you with it. Go on..."

She tried to carefully choose her words, as she didn't want to see the pets killed.

"I fucked up. I got angry and challenged Raff. So I paid for it. I played their game and lost. But then...I had to prove I was indeed worthy to be one of them...I had to watch..to help a little in..something I found horrible. Something I don't like, I didn't think I'd ever...it was bad. And my reaction was strange. I...went out and killed someone that was hurting a girl. I beat him and slit his throat."

"Did you get caught? Did it help make you calmer, feel a bit better?"

"I was a bit careless perhaps but only the girl knew of it and she ran off before he was killed. Yes, I felt better. Is that sick of me? Am I fucked up in the head?"

"Yes. We are all fucked in the head or we'd be living boring lives as accountants or something. I know that a little tradition the boys had was to make new members watch me during my monthly night off. Which I will be continuing that tradition of my one night a month. Why do you think I do that? I don't enjoy somethings I or those in my employ must do. It is my way of release so I don't go totally stress crazy. Looks like you are taking after me in that. Just make sure you do it in a way that isn't going to get back to others. In fact, simply find out what type of victim you'd like, I'll make sure when you need one, you'll have one."

Gregor sat down on the couch next to Brat, sipping thoughtfully at his brandy. A young girl bearing a silver tray came in and with quiet, fast grace, offered Brat a cherry coke then left.

"So...what punishment did the boys give the little cannibals?"

Brat nearly spit her soda across the fancy room.

"You knew? Oh gods, you KNEW?"

"Of course I did. Waif's orders were to make sure the phone was delivered, but she added the message to hear the phone. My man called me right away and played it for me. I heard it then told him to deliver it to the boys and you. I figured the pets belong to Raff and Polliver, it is their responsibility to handle them."

Brat nodded.

"Piggy and Samara were terrified, they pissed themselves over it. They believed they were going to die, I thought they might die too. And I felt terrible because I couldn't help them at all, not after just being slammed back into my own place.  Raff and Polliver didn't kill them though. Piggy and Samara really liked this kid and her mom. They tried to shield them, help them, even telling them to run away and giving them the means to do so. Raff and Polliver made Samara murder them and Piggy had to butcher them. They had to cook them and it's all they can eat until there is no more human dinners left. It was brutal, watching the little girl clutch Piggy to save her. The pets cried the whole time, it was fucking awful. And I did nothing but watch."

Gregor grunted.

"Inventive of them. It is always hard to watch a new brutality. You'll get used to it. Someday, you'll be Governor and hopefully by then your skin will be thicker than mine, your heart will be almost stone."

"Why do you say almost stone, wouldn't it be all stone? Wouldn't that be better?"

Shaking his head, Gregor gave a small grin.

"Sansa was all stone. Her skin broke under Joff, but never her mind or soul. Nothing could really touch her deep down inside. It killed her in the end. She had no allies, only one friend who was no real friend to anyone. By being hard enough to let her only real protection go, Sansa left you no choice but to retaliate with deadly force. Without any emotion or heart, you'll miss the nuances in others, you won't see things clear or open enough. So not all stone, but you need to develop a very strong core for living this kind of life. You already have surpassed most expectations.   I am proud to call you daughter, you shouldn't be so hard on yourself. You fucked up and Raff made you pay for it. It's over. Raff and Polliver had to get a fucking harder grip on their creatures. They did and it's over. Concentrate on knowing both are over and tomorrow is a new day."

"So now that the North and Riverlands are one...have you thought of a new title for all this land?"

"Yes. The NewLands will be run by the Governors Clegane. I expect you to continue the line, of course. Don't worry, don't roll your damned eyes or bitch at me. When you turn eighteen, we shall start looking at prospective husbands for you. Calm down, I'm not like your fucking Stark daddy. You'll pick your hubby along with me. Someone who has power to offer us, but someone who understands in the marriage that you are the power. I'm sure Waif could give us a list that stretches miles."

Brat stood up and went to stare out the glass patio doors. Gregor joined her and both sipped their drinks in silence for awhile.  She stared where an old stone mansion used to sit. It was churned earth and a skeleton of a building sat patiently, waiting to be finished. 

"That was my home. What is being built there?"

"A new asylum. The old one was destroyed in the Kevan Bang. I think its a perfect location. Lots of trees and forest nearby for the loonies to play in. When they aren't working that is. The ones who are crazy enough to need watching but sane enough to work, will work. Same as prisoners in our new prison, same as the junkies in our shiny new rehab. Oh, also those who need housing assistance, of which there are many...the poor will be housed and fed for their hard work. If you'll notice, the site for the crazies has a group of posts where the very large electric fence will be. Where the Lannisters resided will be our new rehab center. The Bolton estate will serve for our prison."

Brat laughed.

"The media is painting you as this hard man with a heart of gold. You made sure you took care of the most needy first, then most dangerous so all would be safe and those in need you got immediate care for. And all along you are really just turning them all into indentured servitude. Damn, that is fucking evil. And its so fucking clever. Why don't I stay here and learn from you directly? Why do I have to train with Raff and Polliver first before I learn from you?"

"If you don't work with each group of men we bring in...if you don't spend time in the trenches you will not appreciate all the men that do.  How will you know what a brewing mutiny look like? How would you direct men if you haven't been doing what you direct them to do? How do you know what limits should be in place? You will not spend all your time in the Riverlands anymore. You are going to spend time with them and with my men here. You will even spend some weeks with Jaq and Waif. And you will spend plenty of time with me as well. The media demands it."

Brat looked one last time at her old home then as far as she could see. Then looked towards Gregor.

"You own all of this? I can't believe it. Huh."

A large hand came down and squeezed her shoulder slightly too hard.

"WE own all of this, girl. You are the Governor's daughter and you will someday rule all of this. If we keep it, protect it. This is your legacy. Now tell me, is it worth the pain of hardening yourself, is it worth knowing you are a target, knowing you will have to suffer an arranged marriage, knowing your children might always be in danger? Knowing you must teach your children to be as hard as we are?"

Brat stood silent for a minute then nodded. 

"I am going to make it all worth it."

 

 

 


	140. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There is a sequel to this story at:  
> http://archiveofourown.org/works/8313691/chapters/19037986

The funeral of Olenna Tyrell was everything that Southern matron could have dreamed of.

Except for the grieving family members. They were were already waiting for her in their graves.

It was extravagant with plumed black horses jauntily trotting down the street, bearing her black carriage with a gold casket, with carved roses adorning the metal. The real flower arrangement that was for the top of the coffin was so huge and towering it had to be brought separately during travel.

The carriage passed a young reporter who was saying into her microphone about how all of this was carefully arranged to Olenna's wishes by her close friend and business partner, Governor Gregor Clegane.

 

For the last four years Olenna had assisted Gregor in gaining official grants for the needs of NewLand. She also created and forged pathways through Southern trade. She had launched Arya Clegane into a new society.

It turned out that the spiky hair, the unapologetic scar that shined through the dark makeup, the leather, tiny chains connecting piercings, it was a teen rebel's dream. Brat was adored and within moments of walking out a door, she was ambushed by kids. Even her nickname seemed to bring the teen worship on.

Gregor saw the advantage and told her it was time to visit Olenna.

Sure, it took Waif to kidnap Brat and drop her at Olenna's feet hogtied. But Brat listened to the shrewd elderly woman and soon saw what she was to learn. Not to change into someone new like Sansa, but to use her own kind of charm to make things happen.

But in order to truly complete this, Brat must learn how to deal with every type of member of society. Including those that hold money that Gregor wants. Or she herself might want.

Within a few months Brat had become a star pupil.

She had gotten funding create a teen center in every town, village and city of NewLand. Brat learned how to create a fundraiser to gain money for a women's health center. She gave speeches to the masses, to the media and to the glittering throng teenagers in the South.

When Brat returned home, her most devoted fans were there and Gregor showed her how to turn them into her people. How to put her followers to good use, to learn which talents they each have that she needs. To find their weakness and exploit them if need be. And once they are hers, to find a way to drown their kittens so they remain hers.  

She spent time at Waif's home training.

Brat would have gone willingly but to get a point across, she was kidnapped in broad daylight. Jaq found himself in the interesting position of teaching a girl not just to spy and sneak up upon anyone, how to use other methods besides violence to extract deep secrets, but helped with her with calculus courses.

Gregor insisted that Brat get her diploma so she can attend a business school.

It was a relief to return to the Riverlands, as Raff and Polliver didn't bother to kidnap her. Brat had managed to capture the art of learning and the boys were impressed with her. When they allowed her to assist them in their work, she did so well that within days she was taking over certain parts of their work.

The day she had her high school diploma in her hand, she was in the South helping to create another small crew. Her father had called her to his study. He handed her the envelope, ignoring her usual mutterings about mail that is hers shouldn't be opened by him. As soon as she grinned at the paper, Gregor threw a package at her.

"This is the business school I've chosen for you. And you are eighteen in two months. It's potential fiance hunting season coming up for you. Study, hunt and of course, work."

"Wow. Thanks, daddy. You know how to make a daughter feel special. Thanks for being proud of my academic achievement. Gee, do I get to test each of these potentials out in bed first? Or should I just stick with cold hard numbers instead? And how am I hunting and working while also going to school full time? When do I eat and sleep?"

"Smartass. You'll go to school part time. Sleep with every potential if you want to but get a reputation for yourself and I'll break at least one major bone in your body. Now, congratulations on your academic achievement. You have three nights off to get up to any fuckery you'd like."   

That was when the phone had rung of Olenna's death.

 

Waif and Jaq walked with Gregor and Brat but no one made any comment about them. The media dutifully ignored what they could clearly see but never say.

Whenever asked, Jaq and Waif said they were advisors and close family friends. It was widely known but never discussed in loud tones that Waif was Gregor's mistress and one not to be messed with. It was both known and not ever proven that the siblings were leaders of an assassin group.

When some energized youthful reporters tried to dig deeper they came up empty.

They managed to "sneak" into Waif's Home and discovered nothing more than orphans. Why they were all so awake at this hour was anyone's guess, but all were in their nightclothes. The house director icily offered to take them through the house if it would make them stop waking the children.

It was to be the most boring and awkward tour of these reporters lives.

The children all silently followed every step of the way as the reporters were shown bedrooms, storage rooms and game rooms. Toy rooms. A gym. Classrooms. Everything was normal, there wasn't a single thing that said this place was anything but a small orphanage.

Digging into their records did no good either.

Waif and Jaq Smith were as unremarkable on paper as their school seemed to be in reality. The orphanage was truly an orphanage only. They had two of them now, thanks to the influx from the explosion many parents never returned to their children.

The other part of their business has become its own world of sorts and was divided among two locations. Both were well hidden. The students left the orphanage through underground tunnels and would walk to reach them.

There were other doors, each a different color in the tunnels used by the well trained and working assassins. Graduates that had keys to rooms that were bars, small apartments, recreation rooms, gym and training rooms of their own. Other rooms were there for torture, for killing and for interrogation. 

 

After Gregor, Brat and the mysterious twins entered the richest Southern chapel that Olenna ever funded, the media got restless.

They interviewed lesser guests entering the chapel then all stampeded the lawn as a while limousine pulled up.  Male reporters and cameramen were nearly killed in the stampede of high heels.

Female reporters and fans all react this way around the Mayor of NewLand. 

Raff slowly stood up from the limousine, allowing the ladies a moment. 

The sun glinted off his sunglasses and his shoulder length blonde hair seemed to shine as brightly. All the women waited nearly breathless and they were rewarded. Raff slowly removed his glasses long enough to give them all his most charming smile, eyes smoldering just for each of them.

How many cats went unfed that night while ladies busily masturbated to that look is unknown. Half the male reporters and camera men there will be laid this eve while their partner saw Raff's eyes, but neither of these things will be reported to anyone.

He gracefully helped his tiny wife out of the car. Her long black hair was in a complicated braid, swinging like a rope behind her. In spite of the heat, Samara wore a lacy black dress that covered her arms and flowed to her ankles.

The sun caught her thick gold collar, it played upon the small chips of gems embedded in it. There was no latch or release to be seen, but plenty of sparkle. It was as if someone crushed an emerald, a sapphire, an amethyst and an opal then threw it at the collar.

As much as the Southern fans and reporters wish to despise the one woman who holds Raff's affections, they can't. The woman does nothing to be catty about. She never speaks unless she is spoken to. Samara is polite, graceful and extraordinarily humble.

She is not a society wife, Samara only attends events with her spouse. The times when Raff is traveling and the girl goes out she is always with another. Either she is attended by the Warden of Newlands or his personal assistant and chef. A young man with the strange name of Piggy.

However, if the media asks her about her husband or their child, Samara's face will light up. Happily, her low voice will give almost lyrical descriptions of her small family. It was clear to all the love she bore for them. It was noticed how much deference Samara offered her husband.

Her devotion to him was obvious. It didn't stop fans and reporters from attempting to flirt with them, however she never seemed upset by it. In fact, one time one of the fans trying to grope Raff fell and broke her ankle.

Samara was the first one to clear a space and help the woman stand up. She brought her over directly to be introduced personally. So the media sought a different tact. They decided the reason the poor woman was timid, quiet and not in NewLand's society groups because she was shunned.

It was known that the Mayor had royalty within his veins but his wife was just a northern girl with no real connections. The Frey and Tully women probably snubbed her harshly. This allowed the Southern females to save face and pity her instead.

 

Any northerner that saw these media clips laughed their heads off at the theories. At one tavern the laughter was a roar of sound.

"If Samara showed up at a fucking hoity toity meeting of the society ladies, the ladies wouldn't snub her. They would be too busy crashing through windows to run for their fucking lives!"

"Yeah, if these idiots saw the way she hunted and slaughtered that union leader, they wouldn't feel so bad for her."

"Oh gods, hey! I remember hearing the Warden had his boy cook the poor bastard and feed him to his own union group."

"No, no, listen! They all want a chance to fuck our Mayor, but recall that other fans that got too close, eh? It's all fine and good and Samara just bides her time. Remember the one that pissed Raff off? She ran and if you recall what Samara did to her when she caught her...what her body looked like-"

"Shut the fuck up, I'm eating wings! We all know, you don't need to talk about it!"

"But if they knew half of what Raff has her do or does to her-"

"They'd still love him. Even if Raff murdered someone on live television they'd still love him."

 

When Aerys had heard that the slave girl was pregnant it had been a year since he had seen or spoken with his son.

He immediately contacted his son through a letter. Offering in a very commanding tone to pay Raff in any way he wished if he would allow Aerys to raise the child. Or Raff could return home with his child. Aerys would be happy with either one.

Raff replied by marrying Samara publicly three months later. Aerys retaliated by disinheriting Viserys and leaving everything to his grandchildren. He had already disinherited his daughter after she and her bloodthirsty army nearly brought the slave trade to its knees for months on end.

It utterly infuriated Aerys that neither of his children seemed to care about his plight or their banishment.

 

The Warden got out of the same limo, along with his assistant.

All the male reporters created a semi circle around him. Polliver was always cheerful and funny.

Each reporter that spoke to him felt roasted and yet entertained all at once. Staying close to Polliver but not in the way of reporters, was his personal assistant. A well dressed young man who has learned how to hide a leather collar under his suit quite well.

As always, the Warden's strange shadow remains silent unless spoken to. Then he usually has plenty to say until Polliver gives him a look.

Piggy has learned how to put down the shovel much faster these days.

He was often seen with the Warden, the Mayor or the Mayor's wife. On rare occasion he has been seen out with the Governor's daughter. Whenever Raff is having an important dinner at his home, he asks Polliver to borrow Piggy.

Raff managed to oust the ladies from the fortress by offering them their own gated community. Once the house became his, only the slaves were there to work as servants, gardeners, guards and maintenance. Inside the home, unless company was about, Raff and Polliver reigned as kings.

Polliver was appointed Warden and decided he should have his own home. He had no trouble with getting the men needed to build it. The home looked more like a fortress than Raff's did. It was the next land plot over from Raff's.

Thanks to Polliver carving out a small route for Raff, the human trafficking has continued on a small basis.

So Polliver also had slaves for the care of his home. Piggy has long since learned not to see his Master's rape or abuse of other slaves. He also tried very hard not to become too close to any of them. He chats with some of them, makes jokes, gossips and pushes them away if they try to get personal or too friendly.

Piggy remains best friends with Samara and visits with her as often as he can.

Sometimes Samara will bring little Malcolm to visit Piggy and he is always amazed at how clever the little boy seems. Polliver had suggested calling the boy Shitmouth after their grizzled guru but Raff didn't take the suggestion.

When Samara must attend Raff somewhere or she is doing some wet-work at his command, Piggy is allowed to babysit.

Of course, a nanny and several armed men or women are in attendance. None of them interfere unless Piggy needs assistance, which hasn't happened except only once. The baby had too much prune juice and then when Piggy begged for help all ran except the horrified nanny.

 

Brat spent her three days at a spa retreat. Except for the first night of her small vacation.

The first night she went into Waif's tunnels and found a certain red door that matched the red key in her hand. Polliver had called her and mentioned the man currently huddled terrified in the room was a sexual offender who liked little girls.

She entered the room carrying a small black case. It had all she needed for a castration and for flaying a man alive. The eight hours she spent with the man was almost more calming then the three day spa.

 

On the fourth day, Brat stood refreshed and ready to work in front of a group of males and females. Each were different except for the hard gleam in their eyes. With a grin full of cheerful malice, Brat stretched in the early dawn light and began to order exercises.

Watching carefully for mistakes, for weakness and delighting in harassing those who incur her wrath for any and all infractions.    

 

 

_If you wish to find out what happens to these characters in the future, please enjoy the sequel of the Breaking Ground Series!!!!_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you readers for your support and I really hope you enjoyed the twisty tale.  
> please join me in my first original fan fiction on ao3 and let me know what you think of it! 
> 
> http://archiveofourown.org/works/7752130/chapters/17675608  
> It is called The Train House and though it does not contain GOT characters, it still has many interesting characters that you might wish to meet.


End file.
